Since the last post I’ve had a few days away in Spain with Jane and my Mum and I also proposed to Jane to which she answered yes and the nuptials are now pending for some time in the future, probably 2013.
Me and Jane
I still continue to receive fixed penalty notices and have another 3 to add to the last 3 I received.
One was for driving through the bus only lane from Clifton Road onto Maida Vale, something I’ve been doing for years and years but now they have these little mobile scumbags that sit in their little cars unassumingly pointing their cameras at whoever is up to no good.
The second one was for not paying for a ticket to park in Iceland’s car park up in Kingsbury whilst buying stuff for my daughters 21st birthday party.
The final one was in Valencia, Spain. I parked the Hyundai hire car in a controlled street, paid a few euros for the ticket, placed it on the dash and walked away. When I returned a few hours later there was a penalty notice under my wiper. The ticket on the dash had some how flipped over rendering it unviewable. I’d also managed to leave the drivers window completely open so the parking attendant could have, if he’d felt charitable, reached in and turned it back over. Come to think of it, it may have been him who flipped it over thus guaranteeing his commission. In fact I’m convinced of that now as I always make a point of checking that the breeze from a slammed door doesn’t flip the ticket over. The bastard!!!
The front brakes on the cab had started grinding recently so I had to find time to get them looked at. This took about a month in which time the noise had become quite disturbing. When Old Pete the Greek mechanic at my garage finally removed the off-side wheel and peered down between the callipers he exclaimed in his Greek accent “Holy shit, there’s nothing left. Metal to metal!!” There was indeed nothing left of the brake linings and only the base of the pad remained. The discs were also pretty badly scored and Pete said they’d need to be changed on the next service. Funnily enough the nearside wheel, which has the low brake-warning sensor, had plenty of meat left on its brake pads so if I’d have waited for the warning light to appear on the dash well…I’d still be waiting.
Work has now returned to normal and as I’m still working days I’m able to earn my money between the hours of 8am and 5pm. I drop Jane at work every morning then drive round to the Cab rank at St John’s Wood where I hope to pick up my first fare in minutes. Working from the same place everyday inevitably means that you will pick up the same people from time to time. Today I picked up, for the seventh or eighth time, a young lad of around 15 who goes to Westminster School next to Westminster Abbey by cab every day. I know he takes a cab every day as he may often get into the cab in front of mine, if not mine. The fare is approximately £14 making it around £70 per week he spends and that’s providing he doesn’t take a cab home as well. His parents are obviously well to do. Good luck to the guy, I’ve never spoke more than a few words to him but he’s very polite and well mannered and always tells me to have a nice day. I’m yet to get a tip off him but who cares?
The Taxi rank I start at is opposite St Johns Wood Underground Station. Attached to the station is The Beatles Café where one can buy a selection of coffees and pastries while perusing a large collection of Beatles memorabilia and also be directed nearby to the famous Abbey Road Studios to be photographed on the world famous Zebra Crossing.
Talking of The Beatles it was nice to see Paul McCartney has tied the knot again for the third and hopefully final time. I doubt whether Nancy Shevell will be at all bothered by Maccas Millions as she has a few mill of her own. Anyway, what I was leading up to was that Maccas house is only two streets away from where I start my shift every day. Apparently he’s owned it for forty odd years and wrote some of his biggest hits there at number 7 Cavendish Avenue. I drove past it the day after the wedding and the clear up was under way with various vans and vehicles loading up and taking away all the seats and tables and other stuff needed to entertain the guests. I read that his neighbours had complained about noise on the night of the party. What a sad bunch!!!! After the crap he’s had to deal with in recent years you’d think they’d have wished him luck instead of complaining.
Anyhoo, I’d better get to bed as Jane is tutting beside me as she wants to go to sleep.