32 TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | AUG 2018
Patients Are Our Top Priority!
At Tybee Teeth, we treat every patient who comes in our
door as family and a friend. We want everyone to have the
best experience with the most ideal dental care possible.
We would love to take care of all your dental needs. Feel
free to call and ask questions or stop by to meet us.
Emergency appointments and visitors welcome!
1018 US Hwy 80 Tybee Island 912-786-9433
@ddytybee
Sweat it out at Tybee Island’s only Yoga Studio!
406 First Street, Tybee Island (behind High Tide Surf Shop)
912-499-4266 | www.dancingdogsyoga.com
TybeeTeeth.com
Check us Out on Facebook
By Joey Goralczyk
A typical day shift in the cab is pretty uneventful. Downright predictable
most of the time. You pick up people heading to work - Tybee workers ... to
the point that you know their schedules as well as they do. There are your
occasional riders that need to retrieve their car from the night before. Then
the daily afternoon shift customers start coming out. These folks go out early
and are, mostly, home by 5pm. They are Pros. Not out to get wasted. Just
out there socializing. They are great folks and they enjoy sharing a cocktail
with their friends. So when something goes nuts, it tends to stick with you.
This particular event I can remember very well, even though it occurred
nearly four years ago. I guess it scarred me a bit. I got a call from a local
bar saying to come and get “someone.” Whenever the bartender says
“someone”...it’s because they don’t want me to know who it is. They are
worried I won’t come and get them. Being the Pro that I am, however, I
hurried over. When I walked in, my rider was quite easy to find. I assumed
correctly that the blonde asleep on the bar was my girl. Like the Grinch, and
wearing more make-up than the entire Blue Man Group, she was out like a
light. The Bar had been open two hours. Two. I reluctantly approached, as her
friends tried to wake her up.
It was at this point that she took her first tumble off of her bar stool. It was
a very hard fall. Her blonde afro was the only thing that saved her from a
concussion. When we picked her up, I also learned that Grinches don’t wear
bras. Her first “wardrobe malfunction” made its appearance as we were
walking her out.
I tried to determine exactly where she wanted to go. From what I gathered,
from some slurred English and sign language, we were heading to The Carbo
House. During our ride ... VERY short ride, mind you, Grinch started getting
a bit amorous. And I was getting desperate! At this point I was no longer
worried about getting paid. I just wanted to know what part of Whoville she
needed to get to.
Her second fall came as I tried to get her off the cart. Any attempts to
get her walking were futile. So, I just picked her up and carried her up the
stairs to the lower porch. She was running her hand up my shirt, all over
my chest. It was upsetting and unsettling all at the same time. She was
unresponsive ... no idea which room was hers. Damn. I started looking for a
chair, somewhere to put her. During my search, as I recall, Ms. Grinch was
kissing and licking my neck ... and face. I think I dropped her, but I have
apparently blocked it out. Who knows? At my wits end, I just wanted to leave
her there and be gone. NO! The caretaker informed me pretty quickly that I
could not, in fact, leave women on his porch. So, I dragged her back to the
cart. I was a broken cab driver.
Then I remembered that Ron owed me a favor. A favor. I was ready for a
shower. I was cashing in! I put her in the cart, broke a couple traffic laws and
headed to 14th Street. I felt her Grinch paw on my neck just as we arrived at
my steps. I dove off of the cart and hit the stairs in one swift move. I shouted
to Ron, “I am calling in my favor. She is yours!” I jumped in the shower ... and
waited to see the outcome.
Somehow, Ron figured out she was at The Royal Palm. He delivered her to
her alleged room and double checked with Kevin, the Manager, that in fact,
she had a room. She did. Kevin said to Ron, “She seems pretty harmless.” To
which Ron replied, “Yeah. Ask Joey.”
Don’t drink and drive. Call Breezy @912-665-9988.
/www.dancingdogsyoga.com
/TybeeTeeth.com