You talkin' to me?

Current occupation: cab driver.

I previously posted something comical a Chinese friend said about Chevy cars. Dirty Chevy. I beg to differ. I'm driving a Chev vehicle with a well tuned V8 engine. And she purrrs when I give 'er.
I drive to Base 2 of Blackcomb Mountain every morning to watch the mists clear as the sun comes up over all this beauty.
My first fare has, like, nine minutes to, like, catch her Greyhound in Whistler Village. I am requested to get her there as quickly as possible. And she purrrs when I give 'er, my little Chevy V8.
I drive four young Aussie males to their next party. They are complete A-holes, to the man, and tip fairly well.
The next woman is the daughter of a software tycoon. They have operations in Ottawa. She just arrived from their summer house in Ireland to hang out at their house in Whistler for the season. Her neighbour rents her place out for $10 000 a week. Nice view.
Next up is the party girl I have driven to and fro several times.
'Hey! The lost cab guy,' she says as she gets in.
'Still no clue,' I say, and we both laugh.
She is going to party with her latest fuckin HOT guy she met at a club. I'll see her the next morning to drive her home.
A woman hops in the front at the next stop. She is wearing only lingerie bottoms and a t-shirt. She has no shoes or socks on and has a very demonic feel to her. Crack. I keep her in my peripheral vision beside me until I get her home. She is in the process of losing her soul.
'I got soul but I'm not a soldier
I got soul but I'm not a soldier.'
Next fare is a woman who lives in a home worth just over $8 million. Her Louis Vuitton accessories are all real. And her husband is violent and she's had enough. I point out how we're passing the Whistler RCMP detachment and look at all the shiny police cars. She has 'considerations', she says. And there went the pity.
At night I sit in my cab right in the dead center of Whistler Village. A full grown black bear comes running down the stairs, runs right in front of my cab, and heads into the bushes on my left. Big one.
I have finally found a place to live here. The woman who owns it is kind of a player in Whistler. She owns several rental properties and manages one of the hotels. I am living with 5 females.
And she purrrs when I give 'er, my little Chevy V8.
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None of the preceding is fiction.