It’s posting time again.
My body clock has gone haywire and I’m up when I should be asleep. This plays havoc with home life because now I’m getting up as it’s time for work. Food has to be made (or ordered and delivered) and mouths fed before I can do that so I find I manage to finally get out by 8 to 8.30pm which then finds me struggling to find jobs that are already sitting at the restaurants and bars that I should have been dropping them at a few hours earlier. I have to head straight for the nearest rank to get “off the mark” and hope my experience will get me that next job.
A few weeks ago I could do no wrong. There was so much happening around town such as Wimbledon, concerts in Hyde Park and Wembley Stadium that the work was in plentiful supply. Since the schools broke up for the summer the work has taken a nose dive and we’re all out here looking for the same non-existent jobs.
The Sloane Avenue Boogie ain’t even working as it’s supposed to but somehow, by hook or by crook, I’m managing to survive. (I got slagged off by my mates for calling it that, does anyone else think it’s cringeworthy??)
The cab has been behaving itself (as it should at 8 months old) and I haven’t been back to the garage since the 10K service three months ago. Since I’ve been paying the weekly rent through the bank there’s been no need to go there. I did have a couple of halogen headlights blow but I’m now a dab hand at changing them. The lights on this cab don’t have that awkward clip that has to be fiddled with instead they have a plastic screw on cap which makes the job a hundred times easier. But I am now only 3k away from the next service so I suppose I will have to go there in the next six weeks or so.
I was reading other blogs recently and clicked on Chris’s to see if he’d posted anything new. I seem to remember him saying that he was going to do loads of posts about his new Mercedes Taxi but it seems to have petered out. Well he’s still out and about and chucking the Merc through those six foot sixes like there’s no tomorrow. The only problem he’s had with the cab, even after taking it back to KPM a few times is with the electric doors. They’re forever sticking or just refusing to open at all causing him to have to jump out and open them manually. Oh and remember what I said last post about GBX? Well he got a job down to Hastings the other night. Nuff said!!
I did manage to snag a job down to Epsom the other night but in the main it’s all bread and butter work of the £10 to £20 variety. I have also got used to hitting the “accept” button on the radio and after 7 weeks of not doing even enough to cover the rent I actually got paid £34 yesterday so things must be looking up even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.
So, one story to tell. It’s a story about how something can blow up out of nothing.
I’d just dropped off at Euston Station and took a peek down the rank to see how many cabs were there. There was none so I drove down the ramp and put on. 30 seconds later a woman walked down the stairs and got in. She asked for Clapham Junction and also said she’d need a cash point. Off we went. As I turned into Great Portland Street I pulled up at the Lloyds Bank. She was listening to her iPod and hadn’t realised I’d stopped for her to get money so I turned the light on and she looked up and removed her headphones.
Her: What’s the matter?
Me: There’s a cash point for you to get the money from.
Her: (Tutting) For fuck sake (Why did she have to say that?)
Me: What d’you mean for fuck sake, what’s wrong with you?
Her: Why are you chucking me out to get money here when I could get it in Clapham? (How was that “chucking her out”?)
Me: (completely over the top response) I’m not fucking chucking you out I just thought it would be better for you to get the money at the first available ATM in case the one in Clapham don’t work.
Her: Excuse me? (acting all shocked that I’d dared to swear at her even though she swore first.)
Me: (Losing it completely as I do from time to time) I tell you what love, get your bags and get another fucking cab.
She tried to start an argument but my hackles had already risen and I was having none of it so I insisted she took another cab. She grabbed her stuff and slammed my door shut and called me a few names. I drove away thinking that my reaction had been a bit over the top but she needn’t have reacted like she did and it just goes to show how someone can ruin a perfectly peaceful evening because they had obviously had a bad day. I drove down the remainder of Great Portland Street and turned to enter Oxford Circus when a guy hailed me and asked if I could run him out to Hainault, a £50 job, which kept me busy and gave me no time to dwell on what had just happened.
I have to try and keep busy this week as I am having next weekend off to attend Jane’s daughter’s wedding in Ipswich. My annual trip to Spain is also coming up at the end of September and Jane will also be coming with me and my mum for the week so let’s hope the work picks up a bit so that I won’t be skint.
Take care out there.