Friday, 2 March 2018

Taxi Drivers - Love 'em

Clearly my mouth and brain, which usually work reasonably well together, have had irreconcilable differences and decided to part company.

The final straw came during a recent blackout when I popped next door to find out if my neighbour's power, gas or water were working.  Well that was the intention.. But when they opened the door, the first words I said were "do you have gas?"

Going right off the point.

I catch cabs often. That's what happens when you drink with breakfast. (Steady on, I'm joking.) So I've compiled a list of my worst worst taxi offences.

First the taxi driver who doesn't know where he's going. I'm not suggesting that they should know where everything is. Even God misplaces Guam occasionally. But there's nothing worse than getting into a cab at the airport and being asked the best way to get to where I'm going. Look I have absolutely no problem with the cabbie having to look up the address, but I'd rather he did so before starting the meter rather than halfway into the trip and then hand me the street directory and look it up for him.

"Dude, I'm not your navigator and this is not The Amazing Race.  Would it be easier if I drive so you can have a snooze? Although I expect you to sling me a couple of bucks for the trip and no, I don't have change for fifty."

Then there's the driver who knows the most direct route, but chooses not to take it.  "Hey mate, I'm no Miss Melways (street directory) but I'm pretty sure the most direct route to the MCG is not via the Sydney Opera House. But here's an idea. How about you ask whoever you've been taking on the phone to if they know the most direct route?"

In their defence, taxi drivers do have to put up with incredible crap from the public. If cabbies he a dollar for every time someone asked "been busy tonight, mate?" , I might be able to get change for my fifty.

And then there are the drunks. From the footy players who've mistaken the taxi for a clown car and are trying to cram fifteen people into 4 seats to the clown who open the door and asks the driver "Do you have room for 4 slabs, 2 pizzas and half a dozen souvlaki?

That's why it's great when you get a cabbie occasionally who restores your faith in the entire profession. It happened to me recently when a taxi cane to pick me up and he was, ready for this?, towing a caravan.

It was the most Australian thing I've ever seen. Turns out he was going on holidays and figured he may as well make some money on the way. His family were in the caravan and he was taking fares but only if they were heading in the direction of Queensland.

What a guy. Right attitude.

More next month.

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