My Right Hand

Over the last few days I’ve been a busy little boy. Sometimes there just ain’t enough hours in the day to do what needs to get done and the pressure builds up. Luckily it’s been pretty busy on the streets so with just a few extra hours per day I’ve managed to tip the scales in my direction.

I went over to my cab garage today to part with the weekly £180. I asked them what I always ask them every week. That is if they had a better cab for me yet. Jim, the genial Irishman said “I nearly had a lovely TXII for you with air conditioning and a six CD changer”. “Nearly?” says me, “nearly’s no good, what happened?” Apparently the guy using that particular cab was going to see his son in Australia and was going to spend six months out there, effectively forfeiting his cab to the next available bod, me! But it all fell through at the last minute for no given reason which means I have to continue with my shit-cart whilst indecisive Bill gets to keep the Rolls Royce of London Taxis until he makes his mind up. I wish Jim hadn’t told me now.

I have managed to injure my right hand twice in the last week. I do everything with my right hand and I mean everything so I can’t be going round getting injured or more than my hand will suffer. Firstly I was doing a spot of pearl diving as my old chef used to say, but to you and me let’s just call it the washing up. I was washing a pint glass with an England logo that my boys were particularly proud of when it cracked in my hand and the glass sank almost bone deep into my right index finger. I instinctively squeezed the finger with my other hand but I knew it was deep. I let go for a second and the blood started oozing out at a pretty fast rate. It probably could have done with a few stitches but I just held it tight until the blood coagulated. It popped open a few times that night as I forgot all about it and used my hand in the usual manner but eventually it stayed shut and now, about four days later it’s healing nicely. I took a pic of it but you can’t really see the cut in its full glory.

Poor Finger

The second injury was earlier on today. Again I was doing the washing up and as I was cleaning a fork one of the prongs managed to sink in behind the nail of the “bird” or middle finger. I’m telling you man it fucking hurt. About half the prong managed to stick in and as I held my hand downwards the fork was dangling from my finger. I had to pull it out and as I did the blood came with it. It still hurts and is throbbing now after my shift and I’ll probably lose the nail. I recently lost two nails on my right foot after having kicked a chair in anger at the kids several months ago. I’ve really got to sort my life out!!

I started work a few days ago and as I was driving down Maida Vale towards town I got hailed by someone who looked very familiar to me. As soon as she came to the window to tell me her destination I recognised her as one of my parents’ oldest friends which none of us have seen for at least ten years. I’d heard they’d moved to Spain and she confirmed it to me. She was just over doing a bit of shopping. In the space of time it took me to drive her the half mile to Crawford Street we exchanged as much news and gossip as possible before she got out. She offered me the five pounds fare but I refused to take it. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again…frail that life is. (For all family members racking their brains as to who it was, it was Cathy)

I had a little chuckle to myself tonight as I was hailed by four obviously drunk City workers. Three of them stayed across the road as the only female of the group raced over to hail me. She was standing next to some road works and there was very little room for her to get out of my way as I came bearing down upon her. She backed up as far as she could but instinctively tried to go back a bit further and proceeded to fall backwards against those red and white barriers perched on traffic cones which subsequently pulled down a whole row of barriers and cones.. There was nothing for her to hurt herself against and she fell flat on her back with her arms outstretched helplessly. What made me laugh was that the whole thing looked like it was in slow motion. The three guys collapsed in fits of laughter and were really no help to her at all but eventually helped her up. She soon recovered and they started singing loudly all the way to their destination. I rang my daughter on the way and told her to have a listen to the racket going on in the back of the cab and she had a good laugh.
I haven’t posted many photos lately as there just hasn’t been anything that’s taken my fancy but I did take a couple recently of a London sunset.

Sunset over Kilburn

Sunset over Paddington