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The Convenience of Taxis Is Overrated This was going to be an entry about how last Thursday night I played lawn bowls, drank two bottles of wine, massaged random work colleagues� bums and didn�t end up making it home before traipsing into work at 10am the next morning. But instead it�s going to be about taxi drivers. I am the sort of person that works to task. I have no real set times at work. I turn up about 8.30 and leave at about �whenever� which is usually 5.30pm or can be 6.00pm if I get a few phonecalls that need handling. I could just imagine the reactions of people that call up and right in the middle of the conversation I say, �No, sorry. I have to go� while locking my doors and speeding down George Street while a potential customer flails her arms in despair. A bunch of us had gone out to a farewell dinner for Canada-Bound Katze. We�d had a great dinner, a few drinks and it was 2.30 in the morning. We�d just been told they weren�t letting anyone in to Scruffy�s for an hour and the rain had depressed us � a reluctant taxi driver was the last thing we needed. Six taxis. That�s how many we went through before one would agree to take us home. Some had their doors locked and wouldn�t let us in until we told them where we were going. Others just narrowly missed running over our feet as they fled in horror that they might be five minutes late for their shift if they schlepped out to where we wanted. Honestly! We hailed every taxi that was driving towards us. We employed much door slamming and glares. Finally after I had just said to a taxi driver, �We�re going to [Suburb Name], are you interested?� and he�d given a shake of the head to which I replied, �Well bugger off then� Katze managed to get a taxi. So me, Katze and IrishPash&Dasher bundled into the taxi to get home safe and sound. After we were driving for a bit he tried to strike a deal with us, asking how much we were going to pay. �However much is on the meter at the end!� I exclaimed. He obviously misjudged us when we first jumped into the taxi. He�s probably used to girls being drunk and easily tricked into paying more. He probably didn�t bank on us being tough bitches. And that�s what we were. At least after the frustration of trying to get a taxi. Sorry for the long entry, haven�t had a good rant in a long time and I just couldn�t stop myself. Tyd 8 March 2004 - 1:21 pm |
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