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The evening Amtrak train arrived late as usual, giving me ample time to obsess. I’ve heard that heads roll in Europe when trains are late. Leaving aside John McCain’s positions on any other issue, this is one reason I could never vote for him: He’s a sworn opponent of any “subsidies” for Amtrak, as if a public transport system anywhere in the world could operate successfully without massive government support.... Read more

The man sitting next to me was quite the physical specimen. He had buzz-cut blond hair and slim, black-framed eyeglasses and looked stunning in his skin-tight blue tank top — a look I could never pull off even when I was young and full of brio. I did have my moments back in the day, but “Jernigan” and “hunk” were never used in the same sentence. Not that I’m jealous, or even wistful; I can admire a good hottie, male or female, without taking it personally.... Read more

Hacking demands a fine balance. The interior of a taxicab defines a delicate psychological ecosystem. Throughout the shift, dozens of customers stream in and out. Sometimes they’re fighting with each other; occasionally they want to fight with you. Some fares are deranged and see you as their new best friend; others are cold, demanding and demeaning. As a cabbie, it’s up to you — the captain of the vessel — to find and maintain some minimum degree of harmony. It can be a challenge to stay focused amid all the stimulation.... Read more

"Take me to my car,” she commanded. “It’s in the parking lot. Oh, excuse me, you know — please.”

The woman, an attractive thirtysomething, sat next to me in the shotgun seat of my taxi as we idled in front of the Green Room on St. Paul Street. She planted her elbow on the armrest dividing us and rested her chin in her palm. She wore a lot of makeup — fire-engine-red lips and powder-blue eye shadow. On some women this is overkill, but on her it came off as, well, sexy.... Read more

"Yeah, I’ll be there in 10, Nick,” I said on my cellphone to a regular customer. “Where are we going tonight?”

“Knights of Columbus, Jernigan. You know — off Airport Parkway in South Burlington. They’re having one of those Texas Hold ’Em tournaments. You know me.”... Read more

Let’s say you’re an event planner for an environmental organization. A big meeting has been scheduled, and the question is location. Where to hold it? How about Vermont?

This is a scenario that must play out in boardrooms across the country, because if I’ve driven one professional tree hugger, I’ve driven a thousand. These environmental types just love to gather in Vermont. We are, after all, the Green Mountain state.... Read more

The pickles were sensational — a sexy marriage of sweet and sour. I kept reaching for one more, and then — well, maybe one more. Heaping bowls of these beauties, chunky and glistening green, were set about the table for the 12 of us, along with similar overflowing vessels of beet slices, pork rinds — piping hot and crunchy — pork pâté and coleslaw.... Read more

It was a busy Friday night, typical in all respects save the date — February 29. Unusual calendar dates used to hold some allure for me, until the Millennium came and went with nary a ripple. The countdown to Y2K, as it was dubbed, approached with the threat of a worldwide computer meltdown. As someone never quite comfortable with the digital revolution, I admit to feeling a certain letdown when the date switched over and the promised Armageddon failed to materialize. In the wake of that big fizzle, I yawn at supposed calendar anomalies.... Read more

Gracie is a self-described “party girl.” I’m not sure precisely what that means. She must be in her forties; I’ve been driving her for as long as I remember, and she was already beyond her twenties when she first started calling my cab. Despite the partying — however defined — she still looks great, and by great, I mean hot. Not smoking hot any longer, but still hot. For as long as I’ve known her, she’s worked out daily, so that partially explains her still turning heads.... Read more

The middle-aged man who stood at my taxi window was grasping a much younger man’s shoulder and arm with both his hands, steadying him as he got my attention. As I rolled down the window the man asked, “Would you take my son and me out to Williston?”

“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “Is he going to be all right in the cab?”

I didn’t have to specify what I meant by “all right”; the older man knew exactly what I was getting at.... Read more