Taxi-dermy

"So this is my life now," he thought.  "Shuttling insignificant people to and from inconsequential errands."  He used to be worth something to people, his life had more...purpose.  People used to respect him.

He still carted the dregs of society about, but instead of depositing them in county jail cells, he took them to their studio apartments and 3 bedroom homes in suburbia.  He still had to deal with vomit on his rubber mats and body odor seeping into his upholstery.  But when he was on the Force, these felt like minor inconveniences and were small sacrifices for the good of the public.  What was once a nuisance had become an unbearable burden without the power of a higher purpose.

He was forced out after only 6 years of service, forced to work for the City Taxi Company.  He was unwanted by the City Police once the new recruits came in.  He hated them.  He was just as capable as they were.  Sure, they had more "options", but didn't he also have a V-8 engine.  With nitrous, he could out run any criminal.  He had only been in one chase, but they caught the guy, and it was partially due to his maneuverability.  He was experienced, reliable...and now discarded because the new Fords came in.  So this is his life now, relegated to this life of foreign music blaring on his radio and trawling the streets outside of bars for drunks.