Oh my god this is awesome. Getting on my PC now to begin mine.
Also Deus I laughed hard when you said he frowned when the can didn't touch the ground.
Name: Armani Adulex
Status: Nervous; new life beginning.
Inventory: Wallet; 10mm pistol (21); immigration papers
Karma: 0
Location: Wallack; referred to the Highler Ridge Taxi dispatch office.
Objective: Obtain a taxi and begin work.
Cash: $17
I walked off the plane that landed here in the city only hours ago, though it feels like it could have been months. This place is totally foreign and I have no idea how I'm ever going to get settled in. I'm beginning to be very thankful I at least kind of planned ahead; when I was back home, I called forward and assured myself that the city would have some kind of driving job. It was easy work, I've done it before, but never in a city this crowded. I guess my driving skills would be put to the test. I hope I don't get wrapped up too much in the crime here in Highler Ridge; this place is worldly known for it's infamous crime rate.
I stepped off the bus from South Bint to here in Wallack nearly half an hour ago, and I've been walking all the way into the heart of this area. My pistol is tucked in my pants, with the mere $17 I saved up from the plane trip out here. I'm extremely nervous to begin my life here. This country was rumored to be the highlight of the world as far as opportunity goes. I plan to put that name to the test.
As I stared down at the brochure mailed to me from the Highler Ridge Taxi people, a peculiar man rushes by me with an almost frightened look on his face. He nearly runs into me, and turns his head back and shouts a quick apology before running on. I look aggravated back to my brochure and look at how this might go. I glance back up and see the white and blue sign marking the dispatch office with a small fenced parking lot across the street with the same sign, only on a thin piece of metal, stuck to the fence. There's a small security booth with a gate arm; I guess this describes the area pretty clearly. The parking lot isn't very big, only large enough to hold maybe fifteen, twenty cars tops. I guess not as many are necessary down here, but then again, it's not the only cab office, even on Wallack; there's supposedly one on each island but I don't know, rumors are rumors. I've heard this taxi company is pretty small compared to it's competitors but it survives really well. I can't remember the name of the rival but it doesn't matter anyway. I note there's only a single taxi left in the lot. I pull open the door of the small office to see a man slouched on the tall desk against the wall. On the bottom of the desk are the neat letters spelling out "HIGHLER RIDGE TAXI" in blue and white. The man begins to speak.
"Hi, welcome to HRT," he says with a nice attitude. "What can I do for you?"
"I was referred here by the main office up in Goodyear, they said they didn't handle the individual applications but the dispatch offices did. I guess I was just curious if this one is hiring," I said shyly, but confidently. He glances down at a set of keys laying on the counter with a thoughtful look on his face. I'm hanging on his next words.
"Well, you might be in luck, one of our drivers just left... Can you drive?" he says.
I answer, "I've been driving a long while back where I'm from," I reply. "I have my license and papers and everything on me if you want to take a quick glance at them," I add.
"Hmm..." he says, thoughtfully. Ever driven a 1990 Monte Carlo?" he says. To this I have an obvious answer, and I reply with a negative retort. He points out of the front window at the lone car in the lot across the street as some yellow taxis drive by, followed by a garbage truck driving by slowly in the opposing direction. I assume the yellow taxis are from out of town, considering the taxis at this office are a light blue with white checkerboard. "All I need is your social security number, a copy of your driver's license and copies of your papers," he says. "It will only take a minute, if I can just take a look." I hand them over to him.
A few minutes pass and he comes back out. "Alright, the only thing left is you need to sign responsibility for the car... There's no deposit on it, but you break it, you buy it. I'd recommend looking into commercial vehicle insurance," he advises. It sounds like a good idea but it can't be cheap. I sign the papers with a few quick strokes. "Great, the car is yours. Here's the keys. There's a laptop in the car you can use to track other current employees, customers that need picking up, and when you enter a location, it doubles as a GPS. They're nothing fancy but it was cheaper than putting one in every car alone," he says. "They get decent mileage, about 30mpg locally, which as all you should be doing for now. I'll keep it easy, you can begin on Central Boulevard." And with that, I thank him; he says his name is Giovanni. I take my fresh ID and head out of the door and cross the street to the booth. I flash my card at the guard and he admits me. I stick my key in the door of the car and it unlocks. I open the door to find a decent interior; tan, cloth seats, a decent sound system and a nice fare counter implemented into the dashboard. I look at the radio attached the cieling and at the sticker just below the cieling on the windshield, noting "WALLACK DISPATCH : CHANNEL 4" and the radio is indeed on channel four. I get in, buckle up and the engine purrs to life without a skip.
Perhaps life here won't be so bad after all.
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