No, I don’t mean the popular song sung by British rock group Oasis, I mean the plan I have devised for myself to see me through the next few weeks before I fly to Spain for a well-earned break. I sat down and factored in every conceivable expenditure between now and the day I collect my cab and go back to work, which will be Monday the 18th of September and I have to tell you it’s a really tall order. I’m not going to go into figures but lets just say that from tomorrows shift (Tuesday) I have to work the next 11 days at the full 12 hours per shift. Some of you will say “Hell I do that every day” but I don’t. 8 hours generally gets me what I need so fuck knows where I’ve gone wrong. During the factoring-in process I thought about how much I spend on myself whilst I’m out working. I stop several times during the evening for coffee, which also means a cookie or a slice of carrot cake or a cookie AND a slice of carrot cake or something equally as delightful from the Starbucks in Gloucester Road. That can often cost £5. Then I’ll have a bite to eat at one of the various establishments I’ve named in this blog in the past. That will invariably cost a good £10. For example at Kebab Kid in New Kings Road I’ll have a large chicken shawarma with taramasalata, chips and a diet coke and that costs £9.50. Later in the evening I might get that second coffee plus trimmings or if I’m filling up the cab at a garage I’ll buy a Tropicana Orange Juice and a large bottle of Evian water and maybe some nuts or a bar of chocolate that almost comes to another £5. Bear in mind that I’m diabetic and shouldn’t be eating any of this shit in the first place but I just find it too hard to resist. My blood sugar levels are always through the roof but that’s another story. So basically I may spend up to £20 a night on myself (but not every night), which is a hell of a lot of money if you add it up over the weeks and months. Anyhoo, that’s what I have to do for the next 11 days so wish me luck.
I saw another random act of robbery tonight. This time I was driving down Earls Court Road. Actually I was at a standstill in heavy traffic so I got a ringside seat of these two young lads smashing the passenger window of a parked car, grabbing something of value and making their getaway on bikes. The street was full of people but everyone one just looked on and walked away as soon as the deed was done. There must have been something of value in plain view for them to have done what they did so I don’t really have sympathy with the victims as “Out of sight out of mind” has got to be rule number one when walking away from your car.
Another little incident that happened at Victoria was as I was approaching the taxi rank feeder in Wilton Road there was a cab stopped there when he could’ve pulled on to the main rank. I then noticed two policemen, a guy with a cycle and what eventually turned out to be the driver of the cab. As I’d pulled up behind him and other cabs had pulled up behind me I was stuck so I just sat and watched. They eventually concluded whatever it was that they were doing and the cabby walked over to me and said “What a fucking joke!!!” . “What’s up?” says me. “That cunt on the bike is pissed out of his head and he’s just scraped all down the side of my brand new cab. I grabbed hold of him and called the “Old Bill” and they reckon they can’t even knick him for driving his bike whilst under the influence” (is that true? Any coppers out there?) He ranted on and on and his cab was indeed only a month old as I could tell by his Hackney Plate and I could also see the scrape down the off-side of what was otherwise an immaculately gleaming new cab. But what caught my attention more than anything else as he was speaking inches from my face was that his breath stank of alcohol. I would even go as far as to say he was himself pissed as a fart and how those coppers never smelt it or noticed how he was acting is beyond me. I know lot’s of professional drivers drink and drive and the sooner they get caught and banned the better for all other road users. I also think it’s high time that some sort of legislation was brought in regarding cyclists. They basically do whatever they want and don’t have to answer to anybody because there’s no way of identifying them. They should at least need insurance for when they damage other cars with their handlebars. However I can’t see it happening anytime soon. It’s so fucked up!!
PS. The beggar has started making an appearance at Victoria after being conspicuous by his absence for the last few months. I never missed him one bit and look forward to giving him nothing in the future as it may mess up the masterplan!!
The Notting Hill Carnival has been and gone again. I managed to stay on the periphery of it and make some good money this weekend. As far as I know there was no trouble this year. Other years there have been murders, muggings and even rapes. I once picked up an off duty copper who told me that we never get to hear about the bad stuff because somewhere down the line the news is suppressed, I don’t really know how true that is in this day and age but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.
The first two jobs today gave me a fifty-pound note to change and I actually managed to change them. Both jobs were for £5 or less and normally they would be told to go forth and multiply but as I’d had a good night before I had plenty of change on me. Normally I’m lucky if I have a couple of fivers and a couple of tenners and I’m always running into difficulties giving change. I have a little sign in the partition asking for change or the correct money but nobody seems to take a blind bit of notice of it.
As Monday was a Bank Holiday and a National Holiday here the banks re-open later today and there will be long queues. My bank has a paying in machine that actually scans the money and credits it to the account immediately. People haven’t caught on to it yet and I always breeze in and out of the bank whilst others chose to queue up and get frustrated at having to wait in line. Some people huh?