Driving a Taxi Is a Fare Living

Steve Robles, a taxi driver for eight years, does two things cabbies are never supposed to do.

He drives with two feet--one on the brake and one on the gas. And he hooks and unhooks his seat belt maniacally, often jury-rigging it so it looks like the strap crosses his chest when the belt isn’t fastened.

An admitted ex-gang member turned recommitted Catholic, Robles is convinced that both habits would save his life. And he defends them vociferously.

In a suburban Southern California county where the private automobile may have replaced the pooch as a man’s best friend,

cabdrivers are an unusual bunch. They carry the car-less to a doctor’s appointment or home after a night of drinking or back from the mechanic when the family BMW breaks down.

They also drive out of state on a moment’s notice, like when a friend of Robles drove to Las Vegas for $1,000, carrying a man with no shirt or shoes, and a 12-pack of beer. “The guy was back two days later, still without a shirt or shoes, but he had lost the 12-pack,” Robles said.

Every veteran cabby has virtually flown, at least once, through Ventura’s streets with a woman panting and pushing in the midst of giving birth in the back of the car. And every driver has tooled a few blocks to the recycling center, only to spend 30 minutes unpacking hundreds of glass and plastic bottles, for a fare of less than $5.

Some Ventura County cabdrivers relocated from big cities looking for a slower pace. Others, like Robles, are home-grown entrepreneurs who found their way to driving after a string of other jobs.

Either way, local drivers say their stresses are fewer than in a major metropolis: The traffic is still manageable, their greatest dangers are usually robbery, not murder, and the money they take home every night is respectable.

Robles starts his shift for Ventura Yellow City Cab at 4 a.m. and ends 12 hours later, exhausted. Since 1992 he has been canvassing the west county, sometimes spending time waiting at Ventura’s bus or train station, other times just driving--down Ventura Avenue, along Thompson Boulevard, up toward Ventura College or the county hospital.

He listens to the scanner for a call from his dispatcher and sometimes mutters, “Come on Ventura, wake up. Wake up.”

The 34-year-old father of two, with a perennial Pepsi and more energy than the Energizer bunny, doesn’t like his seat belt at all. “It confines me,” he said, clicking it on and off every few minutes. “I have to be able to move quick when I need to.”

Moving quick is especially important when a customer tries to bolt without paying, which happened to Robles recently. A passenger Robles described as looking like a “gang banger” asked him to turn down an alley shortly after 4 a.m.

As Robles slowed, the young man threw open the door and sprinted from the cab, a 1992 Ford Crown Victoria, which was a former highway patrol cruiser. Not constrained by his seat belt, Robles flew after him, tackling him in a heap on the ground, determined to get his $10 fare.

“He was trying to take my 4-year-old daughter’s money,” he said indignantly.

With tattoos of Ventura gang signs on his burly arms and a green one across his neck that says “Ventu,” Robles said his tough appearance makes him more approachable for some passengers and more intimidating to others.

Growing up on Ventura Avenue on the city’s west side with an alcoholic mother, Robles said he was exposed early to the seedy side of life. He’s a self-proclaimed master of character assessment--saying he can easily spot the passengers who are drug dealers, prostitutes or burglars.

“But I treat them all the same no matter who they are or what they are,” he said. “Everybody has a story, but they are all human beings, and I like being able to help them out, offer suggestions.”

For Robles, driving a taxi in Ventura County is a job like any other and he works to support his daughter, who he has custody of, he said. The job has its occupational stresses, such as racing to the airport with a stressed-out couple in the back seat or dealing with the teenager who wants to move an entire apartment of furniture in the back of Robles’ cab.

But on most days, Robles’ passengers are more like Sonia Moreno.

Born and raised in Ventura, the 28-year-old Moreno doesn’t own a car because it’s too expensive. She’s a single mom on a modest income, working at a communications company on Bristol Road in Ventura. During her lunch hour--noon to 1 p.m.--she paid Robles about $25 to run errands. First it was the bank, then the electric company to pay her monthly bill and then the cable company to pay that bill.

“I think I should be getting frequent-flier miles the amount I spend in a cab,” she said. The two know each other, and chat about her day and her friends.

The trip costs her, like it would any rider, $1.75 for every mile the cab traveled. Idling time costs $17.50 an hour, or just under 30 cents a minute.

Sam Riley, public relations representative for Yellow Cab, said Robles is an excellent driver because he knows his riders, knows Ventura and is always helpful. “He’s good at what he does and they love him,” she said, referring to the passengers.

One way Robles optimizes driving time is to know potential riders’ schedules. He knows when a patient is likely to be leaving a doctor’s appointment, getting off work or needing a ride to her hairdresser. And he hangs around those areas, waiting for dispatch to page him.

He also quickly alerts the dispatcher when he is nearly finished with a rider. Calling a few minutes before the rider exits, he tells them he’ll be free in “five seconds,” and then he calls back again, as the passenger is stepping out of his cab.

Drivers Try to Recoup Expenses

There are about 100 drivers for all the taxi companies in Ventura County. Several of the small cab companies are based in the larger cities like Oxnard or Thousand Oaks. Yellow City Cab, with about 40 cabs across the county, attempts to be the area’s regional taxi provider.

Despite the perception that suburban counties like Ventura have no cabbies, they can be found hovering around many a corner when motorists pay attention.

People take cabs for any number of reasons--they don’t want to use public transportation, they want the privacy of their own vehicle or they want to arrive at their destination as quickly as possible.

Elderly residents may need help getting groceries to their front door--taxi drivers will help them lug the heavy load, while bus drivers won’t. Or a harried parent needs to make it home for dinner and the car won’t start. So she takes a cab, which can be quicker and less embarrassing than calling a friend.

“Taxis are for those who want to get there now. They don’t want to switch around. They want to go straight and they are willing to pay to do it,” said Roy Myers, a Thousand Oaks transportation analyst.

Drivers for Yellow Cab make between $20,000 and $30,000 a year, said Yellow Cab’s Riley. But good ones like Robles, make a bit more, although the driver declined to say how much.

Robles said he spends an average of more than $100 dollars a day operating his vehicle--paying for gas, leasing the cab and washing it three times a week. “When gas prices go up, it just kills us,” he said, shaking his head.

On a great day, Robles said he returns home with more than $200 profit in his pocket. But sometimes, he won’t even earn his daily nut of $110.

The $77 it costs drivers to lease their vehicles from Yellow Cab includes the routing information that comes to them over the central dispatch service--that jumble of static and incomprehensible numbers that can be heard inside any cab in any city.

Dispatchers keep a continually updated computer record of where drivers are. When someone calls for a cab, the dispatcher calls out the nearest taxi driver’s number over the radio. That driver then receives a page alerting him or her to the location and the client’s name.

Robles, like all Yellow Cab drivers, is not responsible for insurance, repairs or finding his own clients. Along with the dispatchers, the company’s headquarters in Saticoy has a garage, which fixes problems, changes oil and keeps the car running smoothly. When Robles hands over his taxi at night, it must be full of gas and clean because another driver comes on for the night shift and uses the same vehicle.

Although Robles said he only drives for the money, he clearly takes pride in his job.

He gingerly helps older women to the car, carrying their purse or lending an arm for stability. He asks repeat clients how things are, what’s new or how married life is treating them. And with male passengers, he unfailingly brings up the Laker’s recent win, or some other sporting reference.

Robles, like most drivers, believes he is partly in the business of public service. “Some people think we’re the ambulance, others that we’re the U-Haul, but I get a lot of respect for what I do,” he said.

The philanthropic part of the job draws many drivers, according to Riley.

“When you look at it, they are civil servants,” she said. “Just think of all the drunk drivers they are keeping off the road. We have people who plan their whole night around us.”

Making a difference to the community isn’t the only attraction. “These guys are their own bosses,” Riley said.

Robles echoed the appeal of having complete autonomy, saying he could spend the whole day driving his friends around or sleeping in. All he has to do is pay his daily lease fee and that’s it, although he admits the company would give him some hassle if he consistently did not show up for work.

For Robles, the package adds up to a fulfilling professional life.

“I make an honest living. I don’t cheat people,” he said. “I’ve got everything here--great beach and weather and mountains,” he said. “Maybe I could make more money in L.A., but there are more people and smog and it would be too much of a headache.

“At the end of the day, when all is done, I’m exhausted, I reach into my pocket and pull out all that money--it’s well worth it.”

About This Series

“On the Job” is an occasional series about working people in Ventura County and how their lives have been shaped, challenged and enriched by what they do. This installment focuses on the work experiences of Ventura cabdriver Steve Robles.