All in a days work

Knicked again!!

2012-01-26T00:52:00.002Z

Hi folks

As the title says I was yesterday penalised for exceeding the speed limit in Regents Park.
The policemen were in plain view with their hairdryers extended but I was too busy faffing about with all my gadgets to see them. As I looked up from whatever I was doing I was being waved at by the copper to pull in. As he approached the cab I humbly said " sorry about that how fast was I going?" to which he showed me the speed gun which had 40mph on the display "forty miles per hour and I'm afraid that I'm gonna have to report you for that so can I see your drivers licence and bill (cab drivers licence)" That was it, so final!! No warning, no bollocking, no "don't do it again". Mind you, I have to say that over the years the police have been very fair with me and I've been let off more times than I can remember so I suppose it will eventually catch up with everyone but it's still hard to take. He'd taken my two licences back to his car to run some checks and he duly returned them to me also handing me a producer which means I have seven days to present my paper licence at a police station of my choice to recieve my 3 penalty points and to pay the £60 fine. He never said much more than that and from experience I never uttered a word although the word "jobsworth" sprang to mind. I drove away totally disillusioned with the job that has seen me incurring fines at an unsustainable rate recently.

Before being stopped I had been on my way to the cab garage to pay the weekly rent and to get new ads put on. They all had a laugh when I told them I'd been ticketed again as it is now becoming a joke. Maybe they think I'm a joke and were laughing at me. Well who can blame them it sure looks like I love laying out all of my hard earned cash to pay these fines.

On a happier note the cab owner had been due to knock something off the rent at Christmas but hadn't got round to it so I reminded him about it and he deducted £50 which is almost the cost of the fine so I was well pleased with that result. The new adverts are nothing to shout about either just a picture of a worn pair of shoes to indicate that the owner of the shoes would visit every client personally to discuss their investments.

As mentioned in the last post I recently signed up to Hailo and have now done a handfull of jobs both cash and account. The passengers have all been very enthusiastic about the service and I think it will grow to be something amazing. I think if you use London cabs you should get the app and try it out. When we are allocated a job we head straight for the address and the meter isn't started for 5 minutes after arrival at address or as soon as you get into the cab if before 5 minutes. Card payments don't incurr any charges unlike most of the radio circuits which charge between 10 and 12.5% so it's a win win situation. Give it a try you won't fail to be impressed!!

I'll end this latest post with the news that my partner Jane has just become a grandmother for the first time. Her daughter Anna had been in labour for the last four days and at 8.10pm yesterday a bonnie baby girl they've named Taylor Jane was born in Ipswich Hospital in Suffolk. Jane has been in Ipswich for the last five days awaiting the birth and as we speak she is babysitting young Taylor whilst Anna gets her first full nights sleep for five days. My best wishes go out to Anna and her husband Dan and to Taylor too.

Well folks that's all I have for now but check back soon for more news.

Take Care.

L.C.

Hailo

2012-01-20T12:34:00.003Z

Hi folks
Yesterday I signed up as a Hailo driver. It's a new service that enables you, the public, to call a cab via an app on your smart phone. It locates the nearest cab to you and sends it to pick you up. As of yet I'm still waiting for my first job on it. Download the Hailo app for iphones and android and I could be turning up at your door to pick you up!!

I recently had to swap cabs for a week whilst mine went to M&O's for a new radiator. It had got so bad I was refilling it twice per shift. The TX2 I was using was a right old cart and the suspension was non-existant. When I got mine back yesterday it felt like a Rolls Royce.

The work is slowly getting better but it's still taking me a whole shift and a few extra hours to earn my money. I generally try to be finished around 5pm and be in a position to collect Jane from work. Lately, that very rarely happens as a street hail can go anywhere. The last few days have seen my last job going to places suchas Tooting, Heathrow Airport, LCA (City Airport) and beyond all meaning that Jane has to walk home in the dark and often in the rain. My poor baby!!

Well I'm at present sitting on the Berkeley Square rank awaiting my next job whilst typing this on my iphone. Hope it's a good job!!

Take Care

L.C.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Acacia Rd,London,United Kingdom

The Secret Life Of The Earl St. Maur

2012-01-09T23:39:00.006Z

Hi folks

Got back from Scotland ok and went back to work this morning to find that the work was only marginally better than last week.I guess everyone is waiting for their first payday since Christmas before using us again, which is of no use to me or the thousands of other cabbies who have bills to pay.

I recieved a letter in the post from our licensing authority, namely, The PCO (Public Carriage Office). Inside were two ID plates that now have to be displayed at both ends of the cab. They will distinguish All London Drivers (Green Badge Holders) from Suburban drivers (Yellow Badge Holders) so you can expect to see these plates on display immediately although the official start date is March the 1st. See photo above.

Whilst at the 60th Birthday Bash in Scotland I got a chance to speak to my Uncle Joe about a book that he's had published. He's been researching it for years and finally put all the information together in a book. If any of you are interested in genealogy then you might like to check out this website. The Secret Life of The Earl St. Maur traces the pro-military, patriotic and amorous meanderings of the war-crazy, heroic, back-packing, 007-style, once-balloonist Earl St. Maur - son and heir of the Twelfth Duke of Somerset and Jane Georgiana Sheridan. Choosing war, rather than dukedom, parliamentary, estate and protocol duties, he refuted the concept of Christian marriage. Wars in Persia, the Indian Mutiny and Garibaldi claimed the Earl's youthful attention. There's a link to buy a copy of the book. Enjoy.Well I haven't much more to say tonight so check back soon.

Take Care.

LC

Scotland!!!

2012-01-08T11:04:00.001Z

Hi folksJust a quick post to let you all know that I am currently with some of my family in Bonnie Scotland. I'm here with mydad, sister and 2 brothers to celebrate my eldest cousins 60th birthday. We travelled up from London yesterday in a hire car. I didn't think my year old TX4 would make it on acount of it having a faulty radiator which needs filling everyday. So we hired a Vauxhall insignia and made the journey in about 7 hours including a stop off for lunch.We have just had our breakfast at the Premier Inn and are about to leave for home via a stop off in Newcastle to pop in to see Some family.After a really bad week last week I am hoping for better next week so watch this space.Take CareLC- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Livingston

Busted Mirror

2011-12-14T17:53:00.001Z

Just almost flattened a cyclist at the junction of Elgin Avenue and Shirland Rd. He cut across me, realized he wasn't gonna make it the pulled out of the turn in time to whack my mirror. The glass fell out and smashed on the road, he came off the bike and my female passenger screamed. I U turned and went over to him and he apologized claiming he never saw me. How could you not see a great big black taxi?
My mirror casing was also broken but as we all know cyclists get away with murder and the garage gets to pick up the tab. I was on my way over to the garage anyway to pay the rent and get new ads ( Heathrow Shopping this time). I rang the owner en route so he could order me a new mirror but on closer inspection the whole casing had to be replaced. I waited at the garage whilst he took my cab to get the mirror at a cost of £86 to himself and drove away an hour later with everything intact.
I did a few jobs but the Central London traffic at the moment is horrendous so called it a day.
Back to my normal routine tomorrow.
One more fixed penalty to report. I was penalized for waiting in the zig-zagged area just before the begining of the taxi rank at Harrods. £65 less to spend at Chistmas.
Incase i go missing again heres wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas!!!

Take care out there.

LC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Latest Door Ads

2011-10-19T13:09:00.001+01:00

Hi folks

I've just left my taxi garage with new advertising on the doors. They have, in the past, given samples with whatever the ads refered to. So I was excited to see that the latest ads were about beer. I had visions of recieving a few cases of the stuff to hand out to my passengers (yeah right). No such luck today.

I parted with the weekly cab rent of £205 and had a chat with the owner, the mechanic and the two guys putting the new ads on.

I also got old Pete to change a blown yellow indicator bulb and i was good to go.

I started late today as i went up to Leeds yesterday with my son to watch the home game against Coventry City. The weather up north was absolutely freezing and was discussed with the nice couple as they served me and Danny our curry and chips.
After a visit to the club shop to get Danny the latest blue away strip we sat in the warmth of Janes car (she'd generously offered it up to me instead of driving the taxi all the way up there) until it was time to take our seats in the east stand for the game.
We led for most of the game but threw it all away in the last few seconds of added time. You could hear the crowds exasperation as the goal went in and an immediate exodus was sparked. Oh well, thats football for you.

I'm now sitting on the rank at St Johns Wood hoping for a decent job. I'll let you know what I got later.

Take care y'all

LC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Acacia Rd,Paddington,United Kingdom

I'm sort of engaged!!

2011-10-12T23:45:00.007+01:00

Hi folks

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.

Take Care

LC.

Sick Britain

2011-08-11T22:10:00.006+01:00

Hi folks

In spite of the riots gripping the country I have managed to avoid getting into any sort of trouble and my cab remains untouched.
It’s been terrible to see the events of the last three or four days where rioting and looting have taken a hold in some of our major cities.
Our Prime Minister has labelled these people as sick and I have to agree with him.
The most sickening thing I’ve seen (on TV) was the young Malaysian student who lay injured with a broken jaw and a bunch of rioters looked as if they were going to help him but instead they robbed him of his phone and wallet. There’s no hope left in this world, I truly despair sometimes.

I have had a bad week work wise. Being August the work has dried up and there are thousands of us driving around looking for the same work. If you can’t get on a rank then you’re going to find it difficult to make any money. On top of all that I have managed to receive a record (for me) three fixed penalties in the same week. My taxi proprietor keeps ringing me with the words “sorry mate there’s another one”. The first one was for stopping in the box junction on New Kings Road on the junction with Bagleys Lane. £65. The second one was for another box junction offence exiting Berkeley Street onto Piccadilly. Another £65. The third one I just found out about today but the garage owner said it was for stopping on zigzags and the only one I can think of is the one on Gillingham Street whilst trying to get on the cab rank for Victoria. Another £65 making the grand total of £195 I will have paid out this week. Not acceptable by any standards. To add insult to injury the cab owner rang me up and told me the weekly rent would have to go up by £10 as the insurance premiums have been increased by 60%. I should be angry but I haven’t got the energy.

Another negative thing that happened to me recently was when I was asked by a passenger if I accepted credit cards, as he never had any cash on him. I said I did and off we went from Euston to Barbican. On arrival he produced the card, I processed it but nothing happened. We tried two other cards but nothing happened with them either. I ended up letting him walk away with £12 on the meter. On closer inspection I noticed there was no provider logo (Vodafone) on the display so I simply turned it off and on again, the logo appeared and I did a test job for a pound with my own card and voila it worked!! You live and learn.

I did have one nice job in the midst of all this despair.
I was on point at Victoria Station when an elderly American couple approached me with a bit of paper. I get all excited when I see a bit of paper because there could be anything written on it. More often than not it’s a hotel not a million miles away but on this occasion it was the Hilton London Dartford Bridge. “You do know this is outside London” I said to them. “Oh no it’s in London” they assure me. There was a DA postcode on the paper and I assured them it was outside London and the fare would be in the region of £90 to £100. They had a little think, people were going round them to the cabs behind and I was worried that they’d change their mind and seek alternative accommodation but they eventually acquiesced and we set off towards the A2 and the County of Kent. Being a big job I quickly removed the “Credit Cards Accepted” sign so as to make sure they paid cash, which they did.

We are now in the month of Ramadan and I’m expecting the work to slow down even more than it already has. Who’d be a cab driver in London?

Hopefully my next post will be more upbeat. Until then be good to each other.

Take Care.

L.C.

Michael "Mick" Brown 1945 - 2011

2011-07-24T14:25:00.011+01:00

Mick Brown & his guitar

It Is with much sadness that I open this latest post with the sad news that my father-in-law Michael “Mick” Brown sadly passed away on Tuesday the 19^th of July after a short battle with cancer. The speed of his passing from diagnosis to death was truly frightening and if any of you have any niggling complaints (as he had for several months) then I urge you to see your doctors and get it checked out.

I met Mick in 1981 when my girlfriend and later my wife took me home to meet the parents. Mick was having a kip on the settee. He was a big man and was often compared to Giant Haystacks, the British Wrestler of the 70’s and 80’s. He looked like him too in those days as he used to sport a full beard and moustache. As he awoke to see who had disturbed him I got a bit worried as he had a bit of a reputation as a hard man down at the pub. I needn’t have been concerned as it turned out because he was one of the nicest guys you’re ever likely to meet anywhere. We became friends and used to go out drinking together and often got into scrapes. Being a builder he would often need a labourer and I helped him out on several jobs and got well paid.

Mick & Jan

Mick loved cars and was always buying second hand ones, doing them up, putting engines in etc. One Ford Granada he bought gave him quite a bit of trouble and we went through three or four second-hand engines and gearboxes before he was satisfied with the results, often working on it well into the night and being supplied with a constant flow of tea and sandwiches from my mother-in-law and his beloved wife Jan.

As all the grandchildren started arriving it was plain to see he was a natural as a grandad. He loved nothing more than to be surrounded by them all and he used to tell them stories, draw them pictures and sing them songs often with his guitar.

Grandad Mick

The game of darts has been a big part of our lives in recent years and I along with my two sons have been members of several teams along with Mick and Jan and we have travelled all over London to compete against other teams. Mick took it so seriously that if he ever performed badly he would snap his darts in front of everyone, throw them on the floor in disgust and vow never to play again. He was always there the following week with a brand new set of darts stating that the new darts were going to make all the difference. Sometimes they did sometimes they didn’t but we did manage to pick up a few trophies along the way.

Mick "chalking"

In recent years the business of day to day living and earning a crust has meant I never spent as much time with him as I would have liked and I regret that now. But you can’t turn the clock back and I have to cherish the memories I have of him.

He was larger than life in every way and one of life’s great characters and I will really miss him. God bless him and may he rest in peace.

Royal Wedding

2011-05-02T04:39:00.000+01:00

Hi folks

I felt prompted to do another post since it’s been almost a few weeks and also because GBCINTHEVITO, a fellow cabbie and Tweeter, indicated that he enjoys my posts.

At this point I have just leaned back on the bed to think of my next sentence and have put my hand on something wet. Cats piss!! She’s never done that before but then again we haven’t had her long. I now have to change the sheets and dry the mattress. Luckily Jane isn’t here till the 13th as she’s away in Cornwall working so I can sleep on her side for a few days. This is exactly why I didn’t want pets as at some point in their lives they’ll piss and shit all over the place. I’ve got the hump now and will have to leave this for a bit. Later.

(Some time later after calming down and eating a Tesco Paella and a coffee)

As everyone will no doubt be aware, the Friday just gone was The Royal Wedding of Prince William to Kate Middleton. I have to say I am a bit of a Royalist and thoroughly enjoyed the coverage. It was quite an emotional occasion and although I am but a mere peasant I felt really happy for the couple and even had to dab a bit of moisture from my right eye, probably caused by a fly or something :o)
The trip from Buck House to Clarence House in the Aston Martin was also a nice touch.
The fly past was a bit disappointing. It would have been nice to see a Vulcan bomber and a lot more jets from all eras, as it was we had to settle for a handful of planes old and new.

For my second job tonight I picked up X Factor winner Matt Cardle and his current girlfriend Sarah Robinson who was a dancer in the show according to Google. It was a fairly long ride and he took telephone calls from several people and spoke about his forthcoming single and album due around September time. When we arrived at Shoreditch House there were a lot of people queuing to get in and he asked me to drive past. He was wearing that silly hat and some thick-rimmed glasses and to be honest I doubt many people would’ve recognized him but he got out several yards past all the crowds and paid me. Meter fare was £27.80 and Matty Lad gave me £28 in notes and coins. It’s good to see that all that success hasn’t gone to his head and he still knows the value of a pound note.

Being a Mayday Bank Holiday weekend the Sunday often replaces the Saturday as the night everyone goes clubbing. I was kept extremely busy for around 6 hours and took a decent amount of money.

One of the last jobs of the night took me from Kensington High Street to Homerton. What an ignorant pair of A-holes these two turned out to be. All the way there quibbling about the route and how it would’ve been cheaper to go another way and that I was ripping them off. It makes me so mad sometimes but I think I’m mellowing with age because a few years ago it would have been handbrake on and “OUT!!”

Several years ago I blogged about a row I had with a beggar. He’d called me a few names when I refused to give him any money and as I had a passenger on board I went looking for him after dropping off. We had a mildly violent altercation, which was broken up by a few people on the cab rank at South Kensington Station. I never saw him again after that until a few days ago whilst dieseling up at the Old Brompton Road Shell garage. I never knew it was him at first but after I again refused to give him any money he started with the insults and we were soon trading insults of the most terrible kind. I told him to get a job; he said he had one…begging!! It went on for several minutes and the other patrons in the garage looked on in disgust at the language used by both of us and in some cases awe that someone could do what they didn’t have the bottle to do. It got to a point where there was nothing more to say, every possible insult had been traded and we parted company once again. At least this time I never manhandled him. Muppet!!

Anyway, I hope the work will now return to normal after a very quiet few weeks.

Take Care.

L.C.

To bilk- 1: to block the free development of, 2: to cheat out of something valuable, 3: to slip away from

2011-04-20T15:26:00.005+01:00

Hi Folks, back again.

Since my last post I’ve had a few episodes with passengers that need to be discussed.

For the last few weeks there have been road works on a major South London traffic system called The Elephant & Castle. I first found out about them whilst doing a job from Clapham High Street all the way up to Clapton in the north. On that occasion I informed the passenger that it would be best to detour, he agreed and I started a series of lefts and rights, which even amazed me. I got him out of having to lose at least 30 minutes of his life by sitting in solid traffic. He was happy, I didn’t get stressed and all was well as we proceeded on our way. My efforts were rewarded at the destination with a nice tip on top of the already nice fare.
A few days later I picked up two ladies in Great Portland Street who asked to be taken to East Dulwich. Straight away my mind was calculating the route, which, inevitably, would take me through the Elephant again. Were the works still going on? Would it be as bad as the other day or even worse? Being a Twitter user and following loads of fellow cabbies I decided to tweet the question as I still had time to get an answer. As sometimes happens the answers never come back in time and as I approached London Road I could see it was still chaos down there. At that point I should have veered left into Borough Road and made my way via Harper, Old Kent, East Street, Albany Road etc. Instead I entered London Road with all the other traffic and stewed…..and stewed. The two girls in the back were chatting away oblivious to what lay ahead. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes later that they realised we hadn’t travelled very far that they started murmuring to each other. As we neared the bottom of London Road I took it upon myself to take the left into Newington Causeway. “Where are we going?” piped up one of them. “I’m gonna go down Harper Road and Old Kent Road” Says I. “The traffic there is a nightmare because of the road works”. “OK” she replies. Harper Road was clear as was Old Kent Road, East Street and Thurlow Road. As I took the right into Albany Road it came to a grinding halt. A completely different set of road works with temporary traffic lights thrown in for good measure. 15 minutes later and we’re still there and the stress is building. They are now whispering to each other, something along the lines of that I was taking them on a massive detour to get to where they would have already gotten to had I stayed at the elephant. I took the opportunity to butt in to their whisperings and the girl who’d piped up earlier took my butting in as her opportunity to start telling me it would have been quicker (and cheaper) to come via the Elephant and Walworth Road. I told myself not to lose my cool as it would be counter productive and we embarked on a very gentle exchange of words with her the more heated one. She seemed to totally not understand the fact that had we stayed at The Elephant we would still be there now and also failed to understand that it wasn’t me who’d placed these other road works here. You just can’t reason with some people. I eventually got through the road works and the remainder of the journey was effortless. Once you’ve had crossed words with a passenger there is a bad atmosphere until they get out. Eye contact is minimal or non-existent and then you wonder if they’re going to start up the argument at the destination, often looking for you to knock a few quid off the fare. The eye contact was non-existent but lucky for her she never asked for a discount, as she would have been sorely disappointed. I don’t like having my routes questioned as I feel I know best and on this occasion I did what any other cab driver would have done and I would do the same again tonight if I get a similar job.

Last Saturday was extremely busy. I took my money plus half again in 8 hours, something I haven’t done in quite a while. Most of the jobs were people going out to bars and clubs and later on those same people coming out of the bars and clubs much worse off than when they went in. It’s part and parcel of working nights that you pick up the drunks and have to put up with their antics. Sometimes you refuse to pick them up by locking the doors and driving away. Other times you pick them up, take a bit of abuse then throw them out. Sometimes you pick them up, take them all the way home then get abused and questioned about the route but you always get paid because no drunk leaves the cab without paying. I’ve locked them doors and driven like a madman, slamming on my brakes and throwing the passenger who refuses to pay about the cab, they generally always pay unless circumstances beyond my control dictate otherwise.
Like the time I was on my way home and an Australian guy flagged me down in Lisson Grove and asked for Earls Court. All the way there he was chatting to me about life in general, and was I a body builder (yeah right!!) and other such nonsense to make me think he was a good guy. He directed me down a dead end street called Mornington Avenue. It was a tight street and I had to keep to my right to let him get out on the left, effectively boxing myself in, which he obviously knew about. He exited the cab and ran up some stairs, which led on to West Cromwell Road and was gone as was my fare.
Then there were the two guys I picked up in Shirland Road who asked for Burnt Oak. Again, chatting all the way there even asking me for a light for their cigarettes. They led me down another dead end street behind some garages got out of the cab and legged it along with my £14 fare (about £30 in today’s money as that one happened around 1992.)
Another bilker I had hailed me down at Victoria. As he approached the cab he made a point of counting some money he had in his shirt pocket to show me he had some on him. He asked to be taken to an address in North Kensington where he would pop into a house then return to carry on the journey to St Charles Hospital. Needless to say he never returned having taken another route to avoid me seeing him. More lost money.

I’ve got better over the years spotting the potential bilkers (non payers) but occasionally get caught out. I’m only human after all.

Just a quick Chris update. After a few years driving his own Mercedes Vito Taxi he has decided to sell it and go back to renting. He is currently renting an old W registration TX1 from the same garage as me with a view to getting the garage owner to buy him a brand new TX4.
A few nights ago I was on the phone to him. I was ranking at Victoria Station and he was ranking at Quagalinos Restaurant in St James's. As his passenger came out of the restaurant he went to statr the engine and the battery was flat. As this is a family blog I won't write down what he said but the air turned blue and even the poor passenger felt his wrath after asking why Chris wouldn't be able to take him. Hearing all this on the phone I decided to pull off the rank at Victoria and make my way there. He had jump leads and after several attemps we managed to start the cab. Several warning lights were alight on the dashboard and it was obvious a major electrical problem was happening so he decided to call it a night and sort the problem the following day. He now has a replacement cab and managed a trouble-free shift with me last night. We stopped for some food in Ladbroke Grove then continued our shifts. After a sub-standard shift I finished £15 ahead of him but still £50 les than I would've liked. Let's see what happens tonight!

Take care out there.

L.C.

Perfume Ads, Wrong Ways and WiFi Dongles

2011-03-31T11:14:00.009+01:00

Hi folks I'm still around just not alot happening. Nothing going on but the rent as that song title suggests, it's all pay pay pay these days.

The weekly cab rent comes round so quickly and involves a trip to the new premises just off Camden Road. The new TX4 (Chinese Version) I am currently driving is going ok but it has a minor water leak somewhere which involves a weekly topup. I have had 3 sets of advertising on the cab since my Paris post. The second lot was a new Vivienne Westwood perfume called Naughty Alice and they gave me a great big bag of samples to hand out to passengers. I managed to hand out a few samples but most people wern't interested so the rest went to friends and family. It did attract quite a lot of attention and I was photographed by passers by at least four or five times a day. The lastest ads were put on yesterday and they are for a clothing store called The Kooples who have a few branches around town.

On the work front I have been flitting between days and nights again. I drop Jane at work every morning at 8am then sit on the rank at Acacia Road until I get a job, which sometimes can be half an hour wait.

The other morning a lady came up to me with a bit of paper and asks for St Chads Place in the Kings Cross area of town. For some unknown reason I went a totally different way to to what I would normally do and got myself into a whole heap of bother. Instead of Hanover Gate, Regents Park, Euston Road etc I went over the top of the park, thru Camden Town, Bayham Street then, the worst bit, I had to sit in Midland road for ages as Goodsway and Pancras Road have been shut for a good while. Well, she moaned and moaned and I had to fob her off with excuses. When I finally did the left into Euston Road I thought the rest of the journey would be ok. To get to St Chads Place you have to go round the one way system and back into Grays Inn Road via one of the small roads off Kings Cross Road. I chose the first one, Field Street, which looked doable on the map but it looked like a dead end when I got further into it. I think at this point she must have thought I hadn't a clue what I was doing ( she wasn't wrong, I was having an off day for sure). The final insult to this hurried woman was that I told her there was an alleyway at the end of Field Street and it would take her straight into St Chads Place. She paid me, ran up the road heading for the non-existant alleyway and I reversed out of Field Street at top speed before she could turn round and slag me off.

I have been experiencing problems with my credit card machine and after months of umming and ahhhing I contacted the company who provides it and got them to send me out a power pack. Now that it works correctly nobody is asking to pay by card. I have signs up in the cab but the 10% service charge must be scaring them off. It's still cheaper than queueing at an ATM but people don't seem to see it that way.

I have a new toy to tell you all about. I recently got a new iPhone4 (that's not the toy by the way) and the pay as you go chip and service plan only gives me 500megs of data, which doesn't last long if you like to stream radio like I do. So, I signed up this week to 3 Mobile's wireless dongle and it gives me 5gb's of data and I can use it on any pc or wifi enabled phone so all in all I'm quite pleased about that.

Talking of streaming radio I have been listening to Outlaw Radio with Magic Matt Alan and his Demons of Decadence. It's is a very non-politically correct radio station broadcasting from the hills of Encino California. It can get very rowdy on there and it's well worth a listen.

So that's all for now folks, hopefully I'll have something to tell you pretty soon.

Take Care.

LC.

Paris

2011-01-31T12:05:00.017Z

Hi folks

this post is only slightly cabbie related in as much as this cabbie (moi) just spent the weekend with his fantastic girlfriend in Paris.

We left on Friday morning and were picked up at my house by my mate Chris aka titaniccabbie's brother. He dropped us at Saint Pancras railway station to take the Eurostar train to Paris. We had to check in in pretty much the same way as you would at the airport, well maybe not as severe. After a short wait in the departure lounge we boarded the train and were soon on our way. I was very impressed with the speed and smoothness of the journey. The time spent in the tunnel under the sea was about 20 to 25 minutes and the French country side on exit was pretty much the same as England. After another hour we reached the suburbs of Paris and were soon pulling into the Gare Du Nord. From there we boarded the metro (having previously purchased a book of 10 metro tickets on the Eurostar) and headed to the La Defense area in western Paris where we were staying at the Ibis Hotel. After checking in and getting our bags unpacked we set off for some sightseeing. We went straight to The Louvre and spent a few hours checking out the famous and not so famous paintings. If you're not particularly an art lover (like me) it can become a bit monotonous after a while so after only having really seen a quarter of what was on display we left for a bite to eat.

The Mona Lisa at The Louvre

We crossed the Seine via one of the many bridges and had a meal in a pretty non-descript restaurant on the Boulevard Saint Germain. We had French onion soup, Lasagne, crepes, diet coke, brandy and a coffee for the princely sum of €78 plus a few more Euros tip. That's a lot of money in my book for somethinng that would have cost half of that here in England. With a full belly we walked on to the Eiffel tower and marvelled at the fantastic awesome structure that has stood there for almost 150 years.

The Eiffel Tower

Later that evening we headed back to La Defense and sought out a shopping centre to buy some goodies to have at the hotel. There is an enoumous building there called the Grande Arch and next to it there are plenty of shops and a supermarket.

We bought enough food and snack items for a few days and left there with 2 carrier bags each. The distance back to the hotel was enough to warrant a taxi ride so we headed for the nearby taxi rank. Being a cabbie myself I know some guys get pissed off at local journeys but they still do the job. The first guy on the rank point blank refused to do it citing that he was busy waiting for someone. The next guy started to refuse as he said it was too short a journey and that we should walk but when I offered him €10 for what I thought would be a €5 journey he accepted. The route he took seemed a bit suspect as we passed our hotel on the left and headed in towards the Arc de Triomph and then back out again. The meter total was €9.20 but I gave him the €10 I had promised him. Needless to say after all the walking we'd done that day we slept soundly.

The following day we visited the beautifull Cathederal of Notre Dame. I'd wanted to come here for a long time and I wasn't disappointed. This is where "Gothic" was invented for sure!!

Notre Dame Cathederal

More walking followed and we ended up at The Bastille memorial where the French Revolution kicked off.

The next port of call was the Sacre Coeur Basillica in Montmartre. We took the funicular railway from the bottom to the top and entered the church where there was some sort of service in progress with a choir of nuns doing their thing.

The Sacre Coeur Basillica in Montmartre

There are lots of little winding streets behind the church with gift shops and restaurants and artists vying for your custom. After another major trek we made it to a Metro station and headed back to the hotel. Sunday morning was my birthday (49) and check out was to be at 12pm.

We took the metro to the Gare Du Nord and checked our bags into to a locker as we had 8 hours to kill. We had another expensive meal at another non-descipt restaurant then went walkabouts down the Rue La Fayette and Boulevard Haussman to L'Opera and Place Vendome where the Ritz Hotel is and into the Tuilieries gardens where we had a chocolate waffle and coffee. We bought a few souvenirs, took more pictures, crossed another bridge and picked the metro up at the Nationale Assemblie station back to the Gare Du Nord for the last time. The Eurostar took a bit longer on the journey back and for whatever reason wasn't as smooth a ride but it was nice to be back in London where Chris picked us up in his Mercedes Vito Taxi and took us home. So all in all a pleasant if pretty cold weekend spent in a lovely city other than London.

Back to work in a few hours.

Check back soon.

Take Care.

LC.

Trying it on

2011-01-08T02:10:00.001Z

Hi folks
I left my house around 8 yesterday hopefull that I'd make some money. As I ventured towards Paddington Station I felt it would be ok. The bridge was empty and I did the left onto the ramp which is fast becoming known to us Twitterers as PPH or Piss Pot Hill due to the fact that it stinks of piss. After a short wait I got off the mark with a job to south London. As I exited the station the guy informed me that he only had £22 on him and would that be enough to get him to Streatham. Now depending on which part he wanted it would definitely be more than £22 and probably nearer to £30. He said to stop when it hit £22 and he would walk the rest of the way. I couldn't help thinking he did this regularly and hoped the drivers goodwill would see him all the way home. I call it " being mugged off" and knew there was no way he was going a penny further than the money he had. All the way down there he was asking if I thought the £22 would get him home and I was answering we'll see. The meter hit £22 at Stockwell, a good few miles from his destination. Am I a charitable institution? Am I a soft touch? Was I in a giving vein this day? It was also raining quite profusely as I applied the handbrake and announced this was as far as I was going. He hesitated for a moment, thought about saying something then thought better of it and handed over the £22. he had a long walk in the rain ahead of him. He should've taken the bus as it would've been way cheaper and got him all the way home. Am I a miserable old git? I felt pangs of guilt but the thought that he regularly tried this on brushed that guilt away.

The rest of the shift panned out ok and apart from almost getting knocked (unpaid) by 2 drunk girls I made my money and was home and tucked up next to my partner by 3am. Oh the joys of being back on nights.

Take Care

LC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Happy 2011

2011-01-04T02:00:00.003Z

Hi folks
I'm using the mobile poster from my iphone again so it won't be too long a posting.

Happy New Year and all that jazz.

Well I think I've been caught out after so many recent days off. There's little to no work out here tonite and after six and a half hours I'm struggling to make my money.

Most of the jobs are short hops and ive been mainly working between South Kensington and Victoria. I think it will take at least another week before the work picks up.

The best job of the night was four guys from Victoria to Wharfedale Road round the back of Kings Cross which went twenty quid but all the others have been much less.

I stopped off at Earls Court earlier and treated myself to a meatball sub from Subway. I've switched from Subway melt recently and now I can't resist the meatballs. It's not doing my figure any favours and all my jeans are starting to tighten up but what can I do? A man has to eat!

I went to the cinema yesterday with my daughter to see "The Tourist". I didn't think much of it to be honest. I'm not a lover of Americans trying to do English accents, and vice versa for that matter so it just didn't provide me with the escapism I was seeking but I made up for it with a Hot Dog, some popcorn and a McD's afterwards. (more waistline stretching nourishment)

Anyhow, just thought I'd check in and do the New Year thing.

Watch out for more tales from my cab.

Take Care out there.

LC

My sister is back posting again. Check out her blog This Is Real Life

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:South Kensington UK

Compliments Of The Season To You All.

2010-12-22T17:50:00.001Z

Hi folks

Thought I’d get a quick post in before the festivities commence.

As you may or may not know I have been working days in order to have some sort of normal relationship with my partner, Jane. It takes twice as long to earn the money I need but means I get to spend the evenings with her watching TV and canoodling and what not. Last Friday she was set to visit her family in Suffolk when it started snowing quite heavily. She got into a panic about the thought of possibly getting stuck in her car overnight, as has happened to quite a few motorists recently. I decided I’d go with her just in case and return the next day on the train. The snow stopped as soon as it started but I went anyway and we had a nice time that evening taking in a movie (Unstoppable with Denzel…..very entertaining indeed) at the local multiplex. I returned on the train the following day but was only able to travel to Stratford as Liverpool Street Station was closed. I took the tube to St Johns Wood and as I exited the station I walked into a blizzard. Luckily I had all the right winter clothing on and the half hour walk to mine was quite enjoyable. The snow settled and is only just melting now 5 days later.

The upshot of this tale is that since then I have returned to working evenings / nights and I forgot how many arseholes are out there. Last night I saw a guy flagging me down in the distance and I prepared to stop but as I got nearer I saw his plastered girlfriend sitting unladylike on the wet pavement so I drove on by, as had many other cabs I’m sure. The pissed off guy threw what I could only assume was a stone which cracked off one of my nearside windows but failing to break the glass. I never bothered stopping but put a tweet out warning my colleagues.

On a more pleasant note I picked three guys up in town and dropped them off at various destinations including Clapham, Wandsworth and finally Roehampton. The last guy started chatting to me about where he used to live in Pimlico and it turns out he knows all my old pals from the neighbourhood. I used to live there until 1976 then moved away but continued seeing my pals at school and for a short few years after. Then, as often happens, we drifted apart but I recently met up with a few of them after tracing them on Friends Reunited. Anyhow, we had a great half hour reminiscing about the old days and then parted company in Roehampton to promises of meeting up one day in the neighbourhood pub The Pride of Pimlico. I doubt it will happen but who knows?

The work was a bit thin on the ground last night when I ventured onto the rank at Victoria Station. A young lady came out asking if I’d take her out to Romford and how much would it be. I told her about £70 to which she said that’s how much she had on her so I said that would be enough. We set off and I started messing about with my satnav. Seeing me do this she offered her postcode. I entered it and found that it was the far side of Romford; in fact it was Harold Hill and would probably be more money. It was a nice clear run up the A12 and I was there in about 35 minutes. As I was doing the last few lefts and rights to her road a deer crossed my path, which surprised and startled me. The girl in the back said it had probably wandered out of the nearby park. The fare hit £83 as I arrived at hers and I prepared to get the £70 we agreed but she gave me the full amount, which gave me my target for the night. The drive home was uneventful but I was tweeting and checking in on Facebook the whole way

I have now been driving my new TX4 for a few weeks. Overall it’s a great cab, as any new vehicle should be but there are two faults starting to niggle me and will need attention in the New Year. One is that the rear off side door doesn’t lock. I’ve had this problem with other cabs and it isn’t a big job but it will need to go to M&O (main dealers) to get put right. As will the second problem, which is that the right channel on the stereo isn’t working. Not a big deal to some people but being brand new it should work. It’s also supposed to be a DAB radio but I can’t seem to get it to scan for stations (it’s a JVC) so FM has to suffice.

Well, I’ve just been down to my local Sainsbury’s to get part of the shopping for Christmas. There’s stuff everywhere and I have little or no space to store anything. Luckily it’s colder outside than my fridge and it’s likely to remain so for a few days so I can store stuff out there with out anything spoiling.

All that remains is to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a healthy and prosperous New Year 2011.

Take care out there and wrap up warm.

LC.

Arise The Shard

2010-12-13T11:50:00.003Z

We've had a right old time here in London. What with the cold weather, tuition fee protests and Charles and Camilla being set upon by a bunch of yobs in Regent Street its a small wonder anyone wants to come here at all.
I drove round Parliament Square the day after the protests and was disgusted at the damage I witnessed. All the traditional type phoneboxes were devoid of any panes of glass. All the lower windows of the treasury were boarded up. There was grafitti everywhere and once again poor old Winston Churchill had been defaced. Absolute animals!!

London and Europe's soon to be tallest building is coming along nicely.

The Shard Of Glass as it will be known has yet to top out but is already taller than the previous tallest building at Canada Square in Canary Wharf, East London. Check out Shard London Bridge on Wikipedia.

Well I'm sitting on the rank at the Cumberland Hotel typing this and the Twitter cabbies are saying this is the busiest week before Christmas. I've done 2 jobs in 3 hours so where's all the work?

I am now driving a brand new 60 plate TX4 Elegance. A very nice cab. One complaint......the right chanel on the stereo isn't working so i'll have to have a word when I go up to pay later on. I also can't get the DAB to work so any ideas welcome. Its a JVC fitted to all new cabs and it doesn't seem to scan for stations.

Finally at the front of the queue so should be away soon.
Regents Park Mosque. Oh well.

Check soon for more rivetting posts.

LC

Brrrrrrr!!!!!!! It's Cold

2010-12-07T08:31:00.004Z

Hi folks

These last few weeks have seen the return (with a vengeance) of the cold and icy weather that winter brings with it. We woke to snow just before the weekend and as usual London ground to a halt. It didn't really affect Central London too much as the gritter lorries had been out and done a good job but the side roads were treacherous every where and anywhere with a slight incline was a no-go area as it's very easy to get stuck.

The cab I am at present using has what I would describe as a crappy heater. The guv'nor at the garage told me that the thermostat had been removed as the previous driver had complained about it being too hot in the summer. Hello!! Its now winter!! Why couldn't he have put it back? The result is that the temperature gauge barely rises resulting in luke warm air at best. Ever the DIY enthusiast, I found a suitable piece of board and wedged it between the radiator and another smaller rad, probably the oil cooler, and low and behold I have heat!! It certainly makes all the difference and my passengers are kept warm and happy to boot!

I will nowadays be found using the rank at St John's Wood Station. Gone are the days of sitting on South Kensington as that whole area is a nightmare during the day. From SJWR (as I call it in my notes) I have gotten jobs all over the place and it's much easier to get from A to B from there.

I picked up a lady yesterday who asked to be taken to York Gate, Regents Park where I would have to wait for her whilst she crossed Marylebone Road disappeared down some alley behind the church, got me worried whether she was coming back (which I'm pleased to say she did) and then bring her back to SJWR. All the way there and back she was telling me of a stalker friend of hers that she'd once helped out by letting her live with her for a year whilst she had some problems and now couldn't get rid of her to the point where it was making her life a misery and put her on anti-depressants. She even started getting emotional whilst telling me and I tried to offer her some pearls of wisdom I'd gleaned from 20 years of talking bollocks to my punters. I think it helped her see things a bit more philosophically and she thanked me for listening and talking to her, gave me a five pound tip and went on her merry way.

I now stop for a bite to eat with the other Chris, aka @Silvercabby on Twitter whilst my other mate Chris aka @Titaniccabby continues on nights. We'll generally wait until we're near the Euston area and go for a bite to eat at the Double Six Cafe at 66 Eversholt street. In my opinion it's one of the better greasy spoons around and you can park for 45 minutes for £2 on the taxi bays in Phoenix Road.

Any way I better get out to work as I've only just popped back after dropping Jane at work and I'm losing the morning burst of work whilst sitting here typing this.

Catch you all later and remember to wrap up warm.

Take care.

L.C.

Mobile App

2010-11-30T00:50:00.001Z

Testing 123
Hi folks, just downloaded an app for Iphone to blog on the move so you may start seeing shorter posts but on a more regular basis.

Its bloody cold and frosty out thrre and they say snow is iminent so wrap up warm.

I gave my TX4 back to the garage today and went back to a former garage. They've started me on a 55 plate TX2 and are ordering me a new TX4 Deluxe which should arrive in a few weeks. The guvnor at the garage I just left was a bit miffed at my leaving even though i gave a weeks notice. The TX2 is £50 a week cheaper and the new TX4 will be £40 cheaper so its a no brainer really.

Any way i'm gonna post this to see if it works.

Expect more soon.

LC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Hello Again

2010-11-11T08:42:00.002Z

Hi folks

All I will say on my absence is Twitter.

Since my last post I have been on my annual week away to Spain and in contrast to last year it was warm and dry.

My routine of late consists of me dropping Jane to work and then sitting on the St Johns Wood cab rank in Acacia Rd until I have my first job of the day (fjotd as we say on Twitter). It can make all the difference to the days takings if the first job goes to the right place. One particular week I was regularly picking up the same guy, an American, who strolled up to my window with his scarf wrapped tightly around him and a cup of coffee purchased from the Beatles Cafe opposite the rank. He went out to Canary Wharf and by the third day I was saying "Canary Wharf?" before he was. That job would basically set the mood for the rest of the day. In contrast, three or four minor £3 -£4 jobs could take up to an hour by the time I'd got back to the rank so it's always nice to get the longuns.

I've been stopping for breakfast with Chris aka @titaniccabbie and also my other mate Chris aka @silvercabby and together with conference-calling each other for hours on end it really helps the day shift pass easily. The banter can be fierce at times and we get to hear first hand how awkward and rude some passengers can be. Titanic Chris gets the most grief as he is a more volatile character than me or Silver. A small situation can often get out of hand as his diplomatic skills can leave a lot to be desired. During any given phonecall the whole range of expletives will be heard from all of us as we're cut up, insulted and abused by fellow road users. But its all taken in good spirit and keeps us laughing the whole time. Day work also has the added benefit of being at home in the evenings curled up at home in a nice crisp clean bed next to ones nice crisp clean old lady. Well sometimes anyway!!

Traffic can be the main source of stress though. Yesterday for instance there was a student march in town. They were protesting at the proposed trebling of tuition fees and the protest turned violent prompting many road closures and diversions. A lot my passenger baled out well before their destinations as the meter forced them to seek alternative modes of transport. Helicopter pilots would've made a killing yesterday if it had been possible to operate in that way.

Well, it'll soon be Christmas again and very soon after the work will die a death again. The years seem to pass so quickly and my lifestyle remains the same. After 20 years in the job I wonder if I should have chosen a better career? I probably should have.

Take Care

L.C.

Peaks And Troughs

2010-08-14T10:16:00.006+01:00

The last four months have seen the taxi trade rise to normal levels since the recession and now dip back down to what is traditionally the worst time of the year. Once again, Ramadam is upon us that means all the Muslim customers have left our shores for Mecca or elsewhere or simply in line with Ramadam just opted out of everyday life for the next month. It badly affected our trade last year and no doubt will do the same again this time round.

I have been working away as usual. I've been doing a combination of days and nights, whatever pays the bills. Night work still brings with it a varied range of passengers. From the rich and famous to the lowest of the low. The drunks have always been there in their droves and I have had my share the same as all other cabbies.

I recently did a job from Waterloo to Camberley in Surrey. She was very drunk and no sooner had we left Waterloo Station than she was fast asleep. I woke her before she became too comatose to wake and got her postcode from her and also asked if she had enough money on her to which she replied that she did. No problem then I thought to myself. A nice run out to Surrey, a passenger with enough money and a job that would probably go over £100. The journey was uneventful until I reached the last few turnings in Camberley. I called out to her to get her door number and nothing. As usual I had my mate Chris on the other end of the phone line and he was witnessing (albeit by telephone) the proceedings as they unfolded. I called out to her many many times at the top of my voice. Nothing. I got out and shook her by the arm. A slight stirring. I continued shaking her arm as she slowly came back to life. She turned out to be what I would refer to as a stroppy drunk. The more she awoke the more my shaking her was bothering her and she would say "alright alright" or "for fuck sake" but if I stopped she would just drift back off to sleep. The whole waking her up thing took at least fifteen minutes and all the time the meter was going up. All I wanted was my money and to be on my way. I tried various tactics to coax her back to reality and when I thought she was finally getting to grips with her surroundings she would lapse back. In my earpiece Chris was offering me suggestions. "You're a better man than me, I'd have lost it by now" he said and"call the old bill (police)".

The long and short of it was that she eventually realized that I needed paying and proceeded to look in her bag for the cash. No cash was present, even after I'd asked her back in Knightsbridge. No problem thought I, I’ll do it on a credit card. She'd be sure to have one of those. I asked her to give me her plastic and the two she offered up to me were no good. One was some sort of library card and one was a reward card. I was now getting seriously pissed off. We were outside her house, she had no money in the house but she wanted to go in anyway. I had my foot on the brake; the doors and windows locked and I was refusing to let her out saying that if she went in she would leave me sitting outside like a lemon whilst she went off to bed.

I decided to bluff it and tell her I was taking her to the police station. The fact that I was in the wilds of Surrey and didn't have a clue where it was never entered my head. I drove away from her house and stopped off at the top of her road and emphasized what I was about to do and she didn't seem bothered in the slightest. At this point I lost my cool somewhat and we descended into a slanging match. All those nice colourful words beginning in f and c were used by both her and me and although it was very cathartic it wasn't getting us anywhere. Then all of a sudden she said to me " well if you stop being an arsehole and take me back home my boyfriend will pay you". I thought "me, being an arsehole?” This was the first reference to there being any body else in her house but I suppose once someone is heavily drunk it always takes a while for them to get all their faculties back to normal. I drove back to the house and switched the engine off. Without asking I got out and opened the back door and snatched her briefcase and said I'd be holding on to that until I was paid. She went indoors and I could hear shouting and eventually (it was about 2am) a tired looking boyfriend emerged, apologised for his partners antics and climbed in announcing we had to go to a nearby cashpoint to get the money. Within five minutes I'd been paid, had returned the case and was on my way back to civilisation. This sort of thing goes on in London almost every night and if it isn't happening to me it's happening to one of my fellow cabbies. In fact Chris had a similar incident recently where he had to lock an American in the cab because he was refusing to pay, needless to say they all pay in the end. Come to think of it he also had a Fabio Capello lookalike who refused to pay and he took him round to Marylebone Nick where the police came out and made the guy pay by card.

My trusty TX4 is still rolling along but with a few injuries. I currently have two slow punctures which need air every third day. I can't be bothered to go up to the garage because there's only one mechanic up there and he's always too busy. I also have rumbling rear brakes, which make a terrible noise in slow traffic. I've been told that it is due to brake lining dust in the drums and the drums must be removed and the dust blown out. I'm off on my annual trip to Spain in a few weeks and when I return the cab they'll hopefully put all these things right.

Since my last post I have been on a weeks holiday to Chesil Beach in Dorset and also spent three days in Rock, Cornwall. I drove the cab down to Rock and it took me the best part of six hours to get there but it was quite a pleasant trip and very scenic. On the way back the cab started shaking on the M5 motorway and I pulled into the services and discovered a big bulge on the front off side wheel. The spare was a bit ropey so I put it on the back and put the back one on the front and made it back home safely. I also paid a visit to Elland Road, home of my beloved Leeds United, for their first game against Derby County last week but unfortunately we lost so we better learn fast if we want to get on in this league.

I've been on days this week and apart from a good Monday the rest of the week has been terrible. I barely paid my bills this time round.

So, today is Saturday and hopefully it will be busy so I'd better get out there and do a bit.

Take care.

L.C.

Follow me on Twitter

Do You Take Credit Cards Driver?

2010-03-19T08:17:00.007Z

Hi folks, its been a while.

Since my Happy New Year post its taken this long for the work to pick up. Some evenings have been really bad but its definitely getting better out there as the economy repairs itself and people now have those extra few shekels which enable them to go out in the evening and afford a taxi home afterwards.

After months of umming and ahhing I decided to sign up with a credit card company thus managing to stop the flow of jobs I was having to refuse from getting away. To date I've only done about six jobs and the first payment has just gone in to my account this morning. The clincher was when one evening a few weeks ago I was approached by a drunk couple who'd been to the Boujis nightclub and asked if I took cards. I said no and after walking down the line of cabs on the South Kensington rank they came back to me and said that if I took them they would go home, collect a bank card and then go to a cashpoint and get me my money. Sounded ok to me so I took them. They were both very drunk and and soon nodded off. When I got to their area in the Kennington district I had to shout out to wake them for directions. I eventually stopped on Kennington Park Road but had driven quite a ways past their house. The girl got out as I waited with her drunk partner. After a while she came back and said she couldn't find her card and started getting hysterical as she only had a few hours left to get some sleep before work in the morning. Her partner woke and they both walked back towards her house which was about a hundred yards behind me on a busy road. I wasn't overly concerned as in my opinion they weren't the type to not pay so I sat there....and sat there...and sat there!!! I eventually U-turned and drove to where I guessed they'd entered their house. There were about three possible houses it could've been but I couldn't be sure so I sat outside for what seemed like half an hour with thirty something pounds on the meter and eventually had to drive off. They'd probably sat down to discuss the situation and passed right back out again. There's not really a lot one can do in that situation other than camp outside all night but it wasn't really an option so first thing in the morning I signed up for the credit card machine and its already proved invaluable late at night. Its of the chip and pin variety and works off a phone signal so as long as i'm in an area with coverage it will work. I also like the fact that it does debit cards as well but the 10% charge has already put a few people off. The thing is, on average, the meter rises by £1 when people get out to use a cashpoint so they might as well pay by card.

My Credit Card Machine

There's an unspoken rule that the cab who was driving ahead of you gets the next job. Common sense, good manners, etiquette call it what you like. So there I was driving down Earls Court Road one night last week. Its a two lane one way street and I was on the left. Up ahead on the right hand side I could see a hand go up and after a quick glance at my wing mirror I could see it was my job as the cab in the right lane was quite a way behind me. I pull in for the girl and she starts to get in. The cab in the right lane pulls up alongside me and starts mouthing that I'd nicked his job, opening his door as if to intimidate me into giving up the passenger. We had a heated exchange of words and insults as one would expect and he eventually pulled away empty handed giving me a one handed salute. Now, on the flip-side I was dropping off in Kings Road and as that passenger paid me there was another one waiting to get in. There's another unspoken rule that if you've just dropped off and there's cabs For Hire behind you then you send the passenger back to them. It was Friday night, my windows were steamed up, there was absolutely work on every street corner so I thought nothing of it as the next passenger got in and asked for Walton Street. Alongside pulls the cab that was behind me and starts the usual "are you sure mate?" In this case I explained why I did it but he said I should know better and I suppose he was right. I offered him the job but the passengers, not knowing the reason as to why, refused to get out. The other cabbie drove round me and was hailed immediately putting an end to a sticky situation but also highlighting the need to maintain cab etiquette at all times coz "if the machine breaks down, we break down" (Midnight Express).

The cab is now a year and a few months old but giving me trouble free motoring on a daily basis. Paying through the bank as I do I am seldom up at the garage. I recently took it up there for a 30k service and was offered a newer (brand new) TX4 if I could find another driver to take mine on but alas all my mates have their own cabs and to be honest I'm quite happy driving my one as its better the devil you know and all that jazz. I did pick up a great big lump of metal in one of the wheels which as soon as I pulled it out deflated the wheel but I've since had the spare replaced and all is well.

I recently got a distress call from my sister telling me my mum's car had broken down. She was collecting my dad from his 3 times a week dyalisis at Northwick Park Hospital in her aging Peugot 205. It was rush hour and took me and Jane the best part of an hour to get to her. By then the police had attended and pushed her car off the road. It transpired that the car had cut out and rolled back onto an ambulance (mum reckons the ambulance hit her) and they had called the police. Any way I tried to jump start it but after a few attempts we called the RAC and the guy that came out within 10 minutes said the alternator had packed up so with a dead battery the engine would keep cutting out. He boosted the battery for about fifteen minutes giving it enough power for me to get the car back to mums. The following day I bought a replacement alternator and fitted it myself and its been fine ever since, I really should have been a mechanic!!!

Take Care Out There.

L.C.

Happy New Year To You All

2010-01-04T08:34:00.004Z

Hi Folks & a Happy New Year to you all.

Since my last post I have been beavering away at work and running to standstill.

Talking about running I have had two of those in the last few months. One got away and one got caught.

The first one was a Scouser (native of Liverpool) who was suited and booted and wanting to be taken from the City out to Balham. I don't think he had running in mind when he got in, it was just an afterthought when he stopped for money. As we were passing through Clapham I stopped at a cashpoiint, as he'd asked me to do so at the start of the journey. I had no cause to worry as he was suited and booted and that gave him an air of respectability. I saw him walk over to the ATM which had quite a few people queueing to use it. I chose this opportunity to get my iPhone out and catch up with the latest Tweets. I glanced over periodically to see the progress of the queue and he was patiently waiting for his turn. Then, as if possessed by a demon, he took off like a thief in the night running into the traffic leaving me no chance of pursuit and with £23 on the meter. Bastard!!!!! In my earlier days as a fledgling cabbie I would have driven straight home feeling violated but I have learnt since then that's it's much better to carry on and you will soon forget all about it. That was the first runner I'd had for a long time and certainly wouldn't be my last as I found out a couple of weeks later.

Whilst driving along New Kings Road by Parsons Green a drunk guy flagged me down and asked for Gloucester Rd. We arrived opposite the station where he announced he needed to visit the cashpoint immediately opposite. I watched him walk over to it and then search his pockets for his wallet. Nothing. He walked back over, or rather staggered, with arms outstretched. I said "what's happening. Have you got my money?" He continued with his arms out and then as if he'd had a great idea said "hang on a sec" and walked into Courtfield Road and out of sight. I had Chris on the phone to me the whole time and I said "this bloke's doing a runner" and spun round and drove into Courtfield Road. The guy was running full pelt up the road, arms pistoning away. I drove alongside him calling him every name under the sun and he eventually ran out of steam and stopped completely out of breath. We then had a heated discussion with me remaining in the cab the whole time. It started off quite hostile as you would expect but after about ten minutes I think he had sobered up a bit and realised what an arsehole he'd been and eventually gave me his phone number, which I rang immediately to verify it. We agreed that I would call him in the morning to make arrangements for him to pay me and off he went. The next day I texted him a polite message which he answered straight away. He was very humble and apologetic and after I'd given him my bank details he transferred the money he owed me plus a fiver tip, £25 in all. So, one story that did have a good ending.

I did find that on the run-up to Christmas 2009 I had more problems with the public than ever before. More and more people are prepared to argue about the fare and find ways not to pay. I picked one lady up in the WestEnd and she waited until we had got all the way to the bottom of Queenstown Road before she decided to inform me that she needed to get money out. The only place available is the ATM at the Sainsbury's Local on the corner of Lavender Hill/Wandsworth Road. As luck would have it the ATM was out of order. She walked back to the cab and said "It's not working, what happens now?" I said "what happens now is that we drive to one that is working". "Oh no, I'm not doing that. I've got £11 pounds on me that will have to do" The meter had £21 on it and rising. What makes people think they can do that, can someone please tell me? Would you go into Tesco, make the cashier scan all your shopping and expect to be let off a tenner just because you were short? If your boss at work said "thanks for that weeks work you just did there, great job, unfortunately we can only give you half your wages this week, is that OK with you?" Would you turn to him and say "that's fine boss, no problem" Would you hell. So why do it to us? Anyway, to get back to the story, I made it clear I wanted the rest of my money and after digging around her bag she found a ten Euro note which I decided to accept rather than drive off empty handed. There was plenty of name calling and screaming in-between all this but i'll spare you all the details as for my New Years resolution I've decided not to be too controvertial, which may please some readers and piss off others but that's life.

So today being Monday and officially the first day of the Kipper Season all us cabbies now have the added worry of trying to make ends meet and trying to put that next meal on the table. It can be a struggle especially for the day shift but now in my twentieth year I'm sure I'll find a way.

Take Care out there today. It's bloody cold and icy. Brrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!

L.C.

PS. Manchester United Nil Leeds United One. Get In There!!!!!!!!!!

Latest Developements

2009-10-29T15:57:00.002Z

Hi Folks

Since last post quite a bit has happened in my life, most importantly I suppose is that my girlfriend, Jane, has moved in with me. She packed her job in as a chef in Ipswich, gave up her lovely and comfy flat and brought everything she owns to my house in London to live with the kids and me. It’s all going well and we haven’t even had a row yet so long may that continue.

In September I went for my annual trip to Spain. Jane came to spend it with me and my mum and after the first few days of torrential rain the weather settled down to allow us a good few days on the beaches of Torrevieja and Cullera just south of Valencia.

The first week after we returned from Spain I tried working days so that I was around in the evenings to spend them with Jane. I only lasted a week before a heavy depression set in and I am now back on nights. I have to say that was one of the worst weeks of my life, never to be repeated. I couldn’t earn the money I needed without working twice as long and I was so tired in the evenings that I was no good to man or beast (or Jane ;o). The straw that really broke the camels back was when I almost had a punch up with a Kensington & Chelsea council worker who had blocked a road when he rightly should have given way. He refused to budge and gave me one of those dismissive waives as if to say “you go backwards it’s my right of way”. That settled it. I wasn’t moving. I even made my passenger pay me and get out as I was determined to prove a point. After a few minutes everyone behind me had reversed and gone another way leaving me looking like an idiot and with the possibility of backing down from the argument but I stood my ground and even got out to inform the idiot driver that I had all day. The cars behind him were all honking the horn and it would now have been easier for me to reverse but I stood my ground and eventually they all moved and the idiot was able to back up and let me through. I was going to give him a mouthful as I drove past but thought it better to have the window closed in case he decided to spit at me, something I know has happened to other drivers but never to me. So after all that excitement I went home and thought to myself “is all this grief worth it?” I had the next two days off and started back on evenings the following Monday. The only problem with that is I’m back to picking up all the drunks and arseholes that I so despise. Still, I can’t have it both ways so I’ll see how I get on and how Jane puts up with being in with the kids every evening before I make any more changes.

The cab is behaving extremely well at the moment and there’s really nothing to report on that front. I had it serviced recently and while I was in Spain the garage did some maintenance on it that has kept it running smoothly. The first annual overhaul is due in early December but I should only be without the cab for a few days.

There’s nothing much more to say for the moment as its been quite uneventful. I come to work, I frequent all my favourite ranks such as South Kensington and Victoria, I earn my wedge and I go home. That for me is a perfect nights work and that’s how I’d like it to remain, but it never does, does it?

Take Care.

L.C.

Where Have All The Arabs Gone?

2009-09-08T15:17:00.001+01:00

Apologies for the lack of posting recently but I think the Twittering is getting the best of my material. Having said that, I am Twittering less by the day. I do find it interesting to receive Tweets from all the people I “follow” on there and it is more up close and personal than reading someone’s blog but I will endeavour to return here from time to time to update what I’m sure is one of the longest running, if not the first, blog about the London Licensed Taxi Trade.

Without harping on too much about Twitter I have found that I now work slightly differently. I read the Tweets as they arrive and get a feel for the areas where there is work, or more recently, a lack of it. August is traditionally a bad month and it’s very noticeable. It’s also Ramadan at the moment an the distinct lack of the Edgware Road Arabs has been felt by all of us. You don’t realize how often they take cabs in and around the Edgware Road area going hither and thither and I for one will be glad when things get back to normal which, if I’ve read it right on Wikipedia, should be from the 20^th of September.

I’ve also been doing my bit to reclaim the work that has been stolen by the minicabs. The nightclub Tiger Tiger in Haymarket is where I’ve been returning to when in the area and there has been some very nice work coming out of there. Last week I picked up a couple who refused to use a miniscab that had blatantly tried to tout them in front of me and I took them down to Colliers Wood. I think the guy thought he was on a promise but his bird had other ideas so I ended up taking him all the way to Canary Wharf for a total fare of £80. Just think, the miniscabs have been nicking this work for years and charging even more than that!!

I’ve had two roaders in the past week. One was from Edgware Road all the way to Englefield Green in Surrey. He was eating something all the way there which smelt revolting but I wasn’t going to upset him by telling him to wait until he got home so I grinned and bared it and got £80 for my trouble. The other one was last night. A bit shorter but nice all the same. Lowndes Street out to Shepperton, right next door to the film studios. A lively old bird who was chatting on her phone for most of the journey but still had her eye on the road as I almost took a wrong turning causing her to call out to me. Fare: £60.

Last Thursday I had the Radio Taxis equipment stripped out of the cab for the fourth time in my cab-driving career. I think it was a combination of me not doing it justice and there also not being sufficient work out there to justify paying them forty quid a week. I’ll miss the credit card facility but I will eventually sign up to one of these companies and get a chip & pin machine to be able to continue doing the credit card work. Anyone suggest a good company that isn’t too expensive??

My mate Chris AKA TitanicCabby is now back driving his Mercedes Vito. He’s been using his brother’s cab for a couple of weeks whilst his was being repaired after a front and rear end shunt in Staples Corner. He’s still experiencing a few problems with the electric doors but I think all that needs doing is waiting a few extra seconds once the parking brake has been applied.

So we’re now into September, the kids are back at school and now hopefully there’ll be plenty of work to see us up to Christmas. I won’t hold my breath though!!

Take care out there.

L.C.

Tweet Tweet

2009-08-09T12:58:00.007+01:00

Hi folks.

I've been working steadily away since last post and making just enough to survive. (I'm bleating again).

I had a puncture on thursday after picking up a nail on my drive. I'd been repairing my sons car with his grandad and we must've tipped out some nails and tacks from the tool box and caused one to give me a flat later in the evening. I changed it easy enough and noticed that the wheel braces supplied with the TX4's are made of much sturdier stuff than their predecesors so there was none of that "bending when stood on" crap. Of course I then had to get the spare replaced as it wouldn't do to have a puncture somewhere out in the wilds. I had to collect my dad from Hammersmith hospital and take him home to Harrow so took the opportunity to visit the garage nearby. The brand new Dunlop I'd put on was swiftly removed and spirited away and replaced by an inferior remould. The front brake pads were also replaced and the rear ones tightened up a notch. I was ready to roll. Whilst heading back towards my neck of the woods I heard a clicking noise. I thought I may have picked up a stone in the new tread so pulled over to check and found nothing untoward. By the time I got home the noise was making me ill. I shouldv'e simply turned round and gone back but I didn't. I got home had a nap and forgot about it. About 7.30 I went to work and the noise was still there. I started getting ill again and rang the owner on his mobile. He was 6 pints into a night out in Dunstable and was surprised I had his mobile. (He'd rung me once on it and I'd stored it in the memory). He suggested I call the emergency number they'd provided me with on a little blue card. I found it in my wallet and called and the only viable option I had was to drive back to north west London to meet with a mechanic who was on call that night. So, off I went again and telephoned him just before I arrived. By this time the clicking had almost stopped and I thought of times in the past when serious problems had righted themselves once the garage was on its way out. The Polish mechanic met me at the garage and started trying to find the source of the clicking. Each time he tried something I had to take it for a spin, returning to where he was waiting, shaking my head. He jacked the cab up and spun the front nearside wheel and there was a grating noise. "that does'nt sound right" he said. "No shit" thought I. The long and short of it is that the tyre was too wide and was rubbing on a pipe. Apparently there are different taxi tyres for different vehicles. So he put the right one on, I bunged him a fiver and went on my merry way.

Once in town the work was excellent. There was (I think its still on now also) a srtike on the trains from Liverpool Street Station so it was no surprise that whilst waiting on the rank at Waterloo, a face appeared at my window asking for a quote to Billericay. I just blurted out £80 from the top of my head and he gave his girlfriend an almighy snog and £80 and put her in the cab. Once I had a chance to compose myself I put the destination in the satnav and could see that the price would be around £110 but I thought to myself I would play it by ear. If she moaned about it at the other end then I'd accept the £80. The job ended at £112 and after a bit of rummaging she produced the full amount much to my delight and had to ring Chris to gloat a little. The term GBX was mentioned again.

I am now a "Twitterer". I got myself an iphone and have subscibed to Twitter and regularly recieve Tweets from lots of other cabbies. It's helpfull to see where the work is and also traffic problems around town and also provides a bit of banter to liven up the shift. You can follow me on http://twitter.com/TheLondoncabby.

So, now off to a BBQ at my parents and I will be out working and Tweeting tonight.

Take Care.

L.C.

Time Out

2009-07-29T05:01:00.001+01:00

Now then now then boys and girls!!!

I suppose the upshot of all this is that it shows we are all different and all react to things in different ways. Thanks everyone for contributing to the comments as it made for lively debate if nothing else. Let me see if I can open another can of worms with this post he he (just joking) I will still endeavour to tell it as it is and as it happens without adding or, for that matter, removing any of the juicy bits.

As I started work a few days ago I headed towards Paddington via Warrington Crescent and the pub on the roundabout was packed with Celtic fans who’d been to Wembley for the Spurs game. I picked up a full complement of five and from the accents I guessed they were Glaswegians. No sooner had they settled in for the ride to another pub in Kilburn than the banter started. I don’t know if they were talking to me but they asked me all the questions I get asked every night without waiting for an answer as if mocking me. “How long are you on till?” “Have you been busy?” “have you had anyone famous in here?” Then they started talking amongst themselves for a few minutes before turning their attention back to me. “Fuck me mate, is the meter OK?” “Are you gonna pay half the fare?” Then on a more serious note one of them asked me about the different tariff rates and why we were on rate 2. I gathered he may well be a cabbie in Scotland and had a genuine interest so I tried my best to explain it. He then stated that one of his pet hates was when passengers got out of his cab, shut the door and banged on the roof a few times, something that happens to everyone from time to time. In spite of all the quibbling, whether serious or in jest, we arrived at The Black Lion on Kilburn High Road and they paid me the fare with a £2 tip and the last one out closed the door and banged the roof of the cab twice to which they all burst into fits of laughter. Bring back the Home Internationals I say!!!

I’ve only got three more shifts before I go off to Ipswich on Friday night for Jane’s daughters’ wedding. I have to go out tomorrow and buy myself a suit for the occasion, something I haven’t done for ages. I’m normally a trousers and shirt guy but a suit is required for this one and in any case it will also serve as a funeral suit should anyone I know snuff it anytime soon including me!!

Only a short post today but rest assured there’ll be more on the way so check back soon.

Take care out there.

L.C.

No Need For Foul Language

2009-07-24T06:24:00.001+01:00

Hi folks

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.

L.C.

Already so soon??

2009-06-17T16:18:00.006+01:00

Hi folks

following on from yesterday.....

With a full belly and a sense of optimism rarely seen as I'm generally a total pessimist I got out to work after my Chinese meal and started the arduous task of trawling the streets for work.

My first stop was the rank at Paddington Station where after a suprisingly short wait I took a French businessman down to Old Brompton Road. I then made my way to South Kensington but was unable to get onto the already overpopulated rank. A few nights previously I'd had a bit of luck doing the "Sloane Avenue Boogie" which means circling up and down Sloane Avenue until hailed. There's always plenty of work coming out from Chelsea Cloisters and Nell Gwynne House but there's also loads of cabs doing the same thing so by doing "The Boogie" you stand a better chance of being first to the job. So as it turned out I boogied half a dozen times and got nothing. Next port of call would have to be Victoria Station. En route I was hailed in Eaton Gate by a nice couple needing to go to Ennismore Gardens. The next fare took me out to Chiswick and I thought I recognized the guy from the TV or somewhere but couldn't quite place him but he did give me a nice fiver tip on top of the £17 fare. I was already doing much better than the previous night and my spirits and love for the job rose considerably.

Back on the South Kensington rank and I'm the second cab. A lady approaches the front cab and he shakes his head. "Aye aye" thinks me, "what's going on here then?". "Do you take credit cards?" she asks after arriving at my open window. "I certainly do" says I, getting all excited at the prospect of one of those elusive roaders I mentioned in yesterdays blog.
"Loveley" says she, "then can we go to Gilston Road please?". My face must have visibly dropped because she said "is that alright?" I told her that the company would charge her an extra £2, hoping it would put her off as it does to a lot of people, but she was fine with that and off we went to Gilston Road, about five minutes up the road, for the princely sum of £6.60. I must add at this point that I do enjoy doing credit card jobs and having the facility has actually got me my money when passengers have had trouble getting money from ATM's. So even though the monthly fees to Radio Taxis (£160) are quite excessive I'd rather have the facility than not. I've also been short on the radio work in recent weeks but that's just me being too choosy rather than the lack of work and I've made an effort in this last week to do whatever comes my way regardless of the destination.

The rest of the shift was pretty much the same with jobs averaging about six or seven pounds. I was passing by the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane and saw only a few cabs there so decided to put on. 2 minutes later I was on my way to Crouch End for the best job of the night at £34.

Chris was out and about as well and was earning pretty much the same sort of money but my nickname for him is Golden Bollocks because he always manages to do better than me by the end of the shift. He might come out a few hours after me but by the end of the night he'll be on more money. The nickname comes from the last three letters of his previous taxi, GBX, Golden Bollocks Extraordinaire. He'll argue that it should apply to me but he takes some beating.

My last job of the night was from the South Ken area. This guy had been to Royal Ascot and was wearing a top hat and tails. He was as drunk as a skunk and in a chatty mood and also name-dropping like it was going out of fashion. According to him he knew everyone who was anyone and had been in the Royal section at the racecourse mingling with the Queen and all her minions. I took it all with a pinch of salt as you must doing this job and he was at his destination within 10 minutes.

So all in all a better night but still not as much as I'd like and remember that tonight is Wednesday and potentially the worst day of the week.

God help us!!

Take Care.

L.C.

I just read my emails and this one caught my eye and as I feel strongly about what our boys in the military are doing then I thought I'd share it with you.

Recently, British Royal Marines in Iraq wrote to Starbucks because they
wanted to let them know how much they liked their coffees, and to
request that they send some of it to the troops there.

Starbucks replied, telling the Royal Marines thank you for their
support of their business, but that Starbucks does not support the war,
nor anyone in it, and that they would not send the troops their brand
of coffee.

So as not to offend Starbucks, maybe we should support them by NOT
buying any of their products!

I feel we should get this out in the open. I know this war might not be
very popular with some folks, but that doesn't mean we don't support
the boys on the ground, fighting street-to-street and, house-to-house.

If you feel the same as I do then pass this along.
Thanks very much for your support. I know you'll all be there again
when I deploy once more.

Sgt. Howard Wright.
1 Platoon, Recon Company, Royal Marines

PLEASE DON'T DELETE THIS... PLEASE PASS TO EVERYONE ON YOUR E- MAIL
LIST, IN MEMORY OF ALL THE TROOPS WHO HAVE BEEN WOUNDED, LOST LIMBS AND
EVEN DIED, SO THAT WE MAY HAVE THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE !

Also, don't forget that when the Twin Trade Towers were hit, the fire
fighters and rescue workers went to Starbucks because it was close by
for water for the survivors and workers, and Starbucks CHARGED THEM!!!
AN ADDED NOTE TO THIS: STARBUCKS HAD STORES ON SEVERAL MILITARY BASES
IN THE UNITED STATES. THEY ARE NOW BEING REMOVED BECAUSE OF THIS.

There are 227 Starbucks stores across the UK, and there's no doubt that
our soldiers would get the same response from this company, so let us
do our bit and boycott Starbucks to show them how despicable theiractions are.

Waterloo Bridge

2009-06-16T19:34:00.000+01:00

Hi folks

A bit of news on the home front for friends and relatives.
My dad’s kidneys finally gave up the fight and he’s now on dialysis. He started off at the Hammersmith Hospital but has now secured a spot at his local hospital in Harrow and has to attend 3 times a week for four hours a time. He’s also being treated for angina and has a couple of narrowed arteries which need attention. In spite of all that he’s still quite upbeat about life and continues to work from home as a translator and lovingly tend to his tomato plants in the greenhouse.

My own diabetes sometimes gets the better of me and on a recent visit to the doctor I was to be given a new treatment which involved injecting myself (not insulin) but I managed to get her to hold off for the next three months as I promised to start excercising and eating better. I joined a gym nearby and after two sessions the gym closed for refurb for a month (just as I was getting in to it!!) and now I try and do power walking and other stuff until it re-opens. I still struggle with the food side of it and as I write this I’m waiting to take delivery of a Chinese meal I ordered for the boys and me.

Since my last post I think the work has picked up a notch. It got really desperate at one point and the standard joke amongst me and my mates is “I’ll meet you at Waterloo Bridge” where we would then contemplate launching ourselves off into an after-life less complicated. But thankfully “almost” normal business has been resumed and such drastic measures have been placed on the back-burner for the moment. I still think the quality of the work has diminished and those long runs out into the sticks are virtually non-existent. Well, at least I’m not getting them anymore, what about some of you other cabbies, are you getting the roaders?

There’s been a lot written recently about reclaiming the work we’ve lost over the years. Work from venues such as the nightclubs in and around the West End where minicabs (the enemy) now rank up (illegally) outside waiting to rip-off the revellers who want to get home to the suburbs. Now, lines of London taxis can be seen outside these same clubs and bars and the passengers will end up paying a sensible price via the metered fare and are realising just how badly they’ve been ripped off over the last few years.

I continue to ply my trade in the South Kensington area as well as Victoria. The average job from South Ken is about a fiver but the waiting time isn’t too bad. Later in the evening the nightclub nearby (Boujis) provides a steady stream of work and the jobs may (or may not) get a little more lucrative, such as Richmond, Twickenham and other nice destinations.

As far as stories go I can’t recall anything particularly meaty to recount. I did pick up a druggie in Earls Court Road one night and drove her to Beaumont Crescent in West Kensington. She had about £2 on her and went off to get the rest from her boyfriend who wasn’t to keen to part with any money so he stormed off leaving her to try something else. After the meter hit a tenner I cut my losses and pulled off. I was having such a good night I never batted an eye lid but I recalled 19 years ago when I was a fresh faced butter boy and four kids did a runner into the Chippenham Estate and I went home to sulk.

(Gone for Dinner)

That was nice. Sweet and sour chicken and special fried rice.
Now it’s time for work and I hope it’s better than last night.

Take Care.

L.C.

Back Again

2009-05-03T03:59:00.005+01:00

Hi folks.
Just getting ready to watch the Ricky Hatton – Manny Pacquiao fight so thought I’d rattle a blog off seeing as it’s been almost a month again.

My football team – Leeds United – have made the play-offs again and play Millwall next Saturday live on Sky Sports. I’ll be in Ipswich with Jane for the first game but she’s assured me that I’ll be allowed to watch it without being disturbed. How nice.

The 18th of April was my son Michael’s 21st Birthday and 22 of us converged on the Dragon King in Park Royal to celebrate it. A good time was had by all.

I was just reading my notes and have seen that I’ve been working non-stop for the last few weeks and I feel really worn out and run down.

The cab recently reached the 10,000-mile mark, which meant it was due its first service. I drove it up to my garage and left it with them while I popped round to see my mum & dad. I’d only just arrived and was tucking into some of my mum’s fine spaghetti Bolognese when, after only 30 minutes, the garage rang me on my mobile and said that the cab was ready for collection. I shouldn’t really give a shit because it’s not my cab but if something hasn’t been checked properly because they want to service it themselves instead of paying a service agent to do the work (which in my opinion is done better) then I should feel bothered. The last thing anyone needs is their cab breaking down in some God-forsaken wilderness at 3 in the morning, as can sometimes happen, because corners have been cut to save a few shillings. I’ll say no more until something happens then we’ll see what’s what!!

So, as I said I’ve been working constantly for the past few weeks. Some days have been desperate and others have been fantastic. The first three days of the week are generally the worst and test ones patience to the limit. Ranking is the only way to earn any money and as everyone else has the same idea it can be quite a job getting on my regular stands. I like to use South Kensington the most but as you turn from Glendower Place into Harrington Road you are often met with the sight of at least three, sometimes four, taxis fouling the rank. This often causes problems for buses coming up behind but stubborn cabbies refuse to budge until the line has moved up. When this happens I drive on by and try Victoria. Now that I am on Radio Taxis I can also book into the radio rank there and receive account jobs. In the last few weeks I have been assigned three or four quality jobs ending up at over thirty-five pounds each and with the added bonus of the “Going Home” facility the jobs have taken me in the right direction home.

A few nights ago I was sat on the South Kensington rank when the radio threw me a London Underground job to Ockenden in Essex. The pickups were Sth Ken, Victoria, Westminster, Temple, Monument, Whitechapel and West Ham dropping off at Roneo Corner, Hornchurch, Upminster and Ockenden. Meter fare was £122 but we get 75% of that totalling £95 so not a bad ride at all.

Food plays an important part in my nights work and I’m always on the lookout for a new place to eat. Recently, in the space of a week I tried three places. The first one was a kebab place on Rosebery Ave. After paying a fiver for the pleasure of having my mouth burnt off with the chilli sauce I threw it out the window. There was another one round the corner in Farringdon road and their chicken donner went the same way. A Chinese buffet place on Thurloe Street South Kensington was the next one to get the old heave ho, totally disgusting. Chris and me did stumble across a good’un in Strutton Ground, Victoria where you can fill a box with as much as you can for a fiver and sit in your cab enjoying it, we’ll definitely be back to that one.

How many of you have had disagreements with other motorists, said your piece and then gone on your way? The other night a guy driving a Mercedes U turned in Kensington Road almost slamming into the side of me. Startled, I mouthed a few obscenities at him and went on my merry way. He had other ideas. He came up behind me flashing his lights, honking his horn and gesticulating for me to pull over and sort it out. I was at traffic lights and jumped out to have a go. After a few more obscenities passed between us he told me to pull up round the corner and we’d have it out. Fired up as I was I fully intended to oblige but as I turned from Kensington Road into Palace Gate there were a couple of people looking for a cab so I pulled over. The Mercedes driver, thinking I was pulling over to deal with him, was out of his car in a flash and then seeing that I had only stopped to pick up a fare proceeded to follow me hurling abuse of a very intimate nature. Totally uncalled for and not a very nice thing to endure when you have a fare and can’t jump out and thump him one but hey ho, it’s all part and parcel of every day life as a London cabbie.

I got a call from Chris’s wife the other night informing me that Chris had left his moneybag containing his Blackberry phone on the backseat of my cab. Chris and me had just stopped for a coffee at the Starbucks in Piccadilly and then went about our business. Unbeknown to me Chris had left the moneybag on the back seat, something he also did sometime last year. This time there was a happy ending, as his moneybag was being kept warm by the enormous arse of my female passenger. I asked her to check if it was there and after shifting her weight to one side she was able to retrieve the poor leather pouch with its contents intact. I had picked her up straight after the coffee so I had to deliver her to Waterloo Station before I could reunite Chris with it. He eventually met me at Waterloo and we had a laugh and a joke about it. The last time it happened it cost him about £150.

Todays shift (Saturday night) was a very profitable one. I started by ferrying my daughter to her friend’s house in Tottenham. Before we got there she wanted some new headphones for her iPod so we tried Curry’s in Staples Corner and Brent Cross Shopping Centre but they were both closed.
I made it all the way in to Regents Park before I trapped my first job, a two-hander to Great Portland Street. That was followed by a Marylebone High Street to Hanley Road in Hornsey and then on the way back in an American guy waiting at the Nags Head, Holloway all the way in to the Metropole Hotel. The next four jobs were stressful because of the West End traffic. Brompton Road to Soho, Soho to Royal National Hotel, Russell Square. As they got out five Spaniards wanted to go back into the fray and I took the opportunity to talk the lingo with them. I dropped them at Leicester Square and immediately picked up five guys going to a Club in the Southwark Street Arches. The work was relentless and no sooner had I crossed Southwark Bridge when a hand went up asking to be taken to the Marylebone area. A few more jobs in quick succession saw me deposit an £11 fare at Waterloo where I thought I’d rank up and get a breather. “We’d like to go to Twickenham” says a female voice through my open window after only a few seconds. That alone was a fifty quid ride and left me sixty pence short of my target for the night. So, I drove slowly along the western end of Kensington High Street where, I kid you not, a sexy young lady in pyjamas and slippers was waving me down. She asked to go to Royal Crescent in Holland Park and from what I could gather from her telephone call the guy waiting in his bed for her was in for a real treat. That was enough excitement for me for one night and now as I finish this text I’ll be off downstairs to watch the fight.

STOP PRESS......... I think Ricky better look for another career. Round 2 knock out, tut tut!!

Take care.

L.C.

Stop press........

2009-04-06T01:51:00.001+01:00

Chris is now posting again about his experiences with his new cab.
Go to his site from here

Burst Rads And New Cabs

2009-04-03T16:05:00.005+01:00

So, leading on from the burst radiator, I went to my garage the following Monday and I was presented with two options. To take the spare cab and either go to work or sit round my dads house until I got a call, or to take the cab to the service agents myself…..in Luton. The guy at my garage said he’d rung ahead and that they’d see me straight away so I wouldn’t be waiting long so I thought a nice drive up there would be ok. I topped up the radiator and took some spare water and set off up the M1. I was there in no time and handed the keys over and took a seat in the waiting room. That was 11am. At 12.30 I thought that the cab would probably be almost ready so asked the lady behind the counter if she knew how much longer it would be. She said they hadn’t even made a start on it and that she had said to my guy that they wouldn’t be able to look at it until after lunch….at 2 o’clock!!!! Thoroughly flabbergasted, I decided to go for a spot of lunch and set off to find a suitable establishment. There was a café nearby and I ordered a Spaghetti Bolognese and a cup of tea. The food was disgusting, the cutlery had the previous diners leftovers stuck to it and there were a couple of chavvy girls in there with unruly kids that were adding to my slowly rising anger. I paid up and went for a long walk and arrived back at the garage at 4pm to find that they were still a good 30 minutes away from completing the job. Still, I always say, “you live and learn” and in future I’ll be taking the spare cab and letting the garage staff bring my cab to these places. What gets me is that they have a service agent close by but there’s obviously issues there which stop them using it. Anyhoo, the cab is now ok and hopefully I won’t have anymore radiator problems although, if some of the comments on the last post are anything to go by I’ll still be needing a few more rads yet.

A couple of days later Chris and me were eating down at the Royal Oak when we were approached by a lady who was recruiting cabbies to star in a commercial for Heinz Ketchup. She said we’d get paid a grand each if chosen for a day and a half of filming. We both signed up but only I got a call-back a few days later to go to a casting studio in the West End. I had to sit round a table with four other cabbies and we each had to tell a story whilst drinking tea and pouring ketchup (from an empty bottle) on an imaginary meal. This was all watched and filmed by representatives from Heinz and at the end of it we were told to wait for a telephone call if we’d been selected. I’m still waiting so I think it’s safe to say I didn’t get the part.

Whilst sitting on the taxi rank outside the Cumberland Hotel recently a car pulled up along side me and asked me to lead him to Holborn Viaduct and he would follow me and pay me when we arrive. I have done this type of job in the past but once or twice, whilst nearing the destination, the following car has mysteriously disappeared leaving me out of pocket so unless there is someone who can ride with me while the car follows I don’t do this type of job anymore and refusal often pisses the driver off which in this case resulted in me being called a few choice names.

That same day I was flagged by a young guy who was, by requesting to be taken to Soho, looking to get laid. I told him he could get laid in any part of town by simply going to a phone box and taking one of the many cards providing all sorts of personal services. We were at Marylebone Station and I stopped at the first phone box I came across. He got out and returned with a few cards and settled for one with a picture of a very buxom blonde. I called the number and was informed of the starting price (£40) and the address, which was just off Baker Street. Not having done this sort of thing before, the young man looked scared out of his wits, so I rang the doorbell for him and ushered him up the stairs to be met by the Madam. I assured him it would be fine and left him in her hands and wished him luck.

Sunday the 22nd of March was the day reality show and Big Brother contestant 27 year old Jade Goody died after a short battle with cervical cancer. Although I wasn’t a fan it was a terrible thing to happen to someone so young and with everything to live for and my condolences go out to all her family, friends and fans.

I got a call from my son asking how to get to Hammersmith as his normal route was blocked by road closures. I was out and about myself that morning after waking early so directed him around the closures. I then picked up a fare in Kings Road and started heading towards Paddington. Forgetting that my son had already told me of the closures I opted to get to Paddington via the west cross route and the Westway. Big mistake. The Paddington slip road was closed so all the traffic was now forced over the Marylebone flyover and was backed up as far as the closed slip road. This is when she piped up. I was called a "con man", a "joke", I was told I’m “not on” and that she wasn’t paying for “this”, and all in all she wasn’t a very happy camper. On top of all that she was about to miss her train. She was trapped on the down slope approaching the flyover with no way of getting off. But she did. She paid me the meter and got out and started stomping off down the slope of the Westway until she was able to step over a small separator and flag another cab in Harrow Road while I just sat in the traffic and looked on. She probably bent his ear about me and what a crap cabbie I am. I love this job.

The hot news this week is that Chris has got himself a brand new cab. He traded in his five year old TXII and collected his brand new Mercedes Vito Taxi from KPM’s on Tuesday. He had a few things to do straight after collecting it and then drove round to my house to show me it. Obviously, as a brand new cab, it looked really nice inside and out but we sat there picking faults with it that would eventually wind us up during the course of our shift. Things we thought would prove a problem were that the taxi has to be in “park” to open the doors. Another major concern is that there are no openable windows just the side ones that open outwards a few inches. Most people like a blast of fresh air every now and then but now have to rely on the AC to do that. If anyone feels sick, like the guy in my last post, then you’re in trouble as there may be no time to prevent it from going all over the inside by the time you have to pull up, put it in park and then open the doors electrically which takes a bit longer than a normal door. In order for the taxi to pass the turning circle test the vehicle is fitted with rear wheel steering. Chris demonstrated this to me in my street and then drove off to work. About five minutes later he rang to say that one of the rear wheels hadn’t returned to its normal position and that he was weaving all over the road causing other motorists to honk the horn at him. Not bad going for a cab only a few hours old. I drove over to where he was and sat with him whilst the mechanic came out to him. He brought with him a car battery and connected it to the motor on the faulty wheel. This pulled the wheel straight and Chris was able to continue his shift with the rear wheel steering disabled until he could get it checked out properly. He has now had this done and is slowly but surely getting the hang of the cab. His only concern now is taking a left turn through the six foot six on Albert Bridge without scraping the much wider cab on the posts. As far as I know he hasn’t done it yet but tonight could be the night. Watch this space.

Chris's new cab in front of mine.

Take care.

L.C.

Eventful

2009-03-15T05:54:00.004Z

Hi folks
Well I just decided a few minutes ago that I would do another post and thought it best, at 4.30am, to go downstairs and fix myself something to eat first. Being part of a household that could do with collectively shedding a few pounds, I purposely don’t keep large amounts of food in the house. So it came as no surprise to me just now as I opened the fridge that there was sweet FA with which to prepare myself anything resembling a late night snack. So here I sit with two clementines inside me and an orangey smelling keyboard about to begin this post.

Just a quick reply to the commenter on the previous post, APW. You love it 38.

I have to start with a comment to the cabbie that has just been found guilty of drugging and sexually assaulting women in his cab. “Thanks mate, you’ve just systematically ruined our reputation or at the least put lots of doubts in the minds of women who will now think twice about taking a licensed cab home.” When I first heard about this last year I was convinced it was someone who had the use of a licensed taxi but was not actually one of us. How could he be? We’re a respected bunch of guys, everyone trusts us don’t they? I suppose it could be said that there’s a bad apple in every barrel but it’s still hard to believe all the same and I hope women take it for what I’m sure it is and that is the actions of a sick individual who has now been caught and will spend a long time in prison.
Bob Oddy from the Licensed Taxi Drivers Association insisted black cabs were safe, despite Worboys' conviction.
"This man has really let the side down. It won't happen again and you can be confident the next taxi you stop will get you to your destination safely," he said.

And now to work matters. I’ve had quite an eventful time since last post.

One day last week I picked a guy up in the West End and he asked for East Finchley, a nice job by any standards. Within 5 minutes we were traversing Russell Square when he asks me to pull over quick, as he wants to be sick. I always admire guys who do this and always live in hope that women will do the same but they never do. Any way he opened the door and puked in the triangle that was his arm, the door and the step. Some of it splashed on the step but I knew I could hose that straight off. Onwards we went and two minutes later he lowered the window and put most of his upper half out to continue puking. Fine thought I, he’s still being considerate as it’s probably all going straight onto the road. I stop in traffic and people at bus stops and passers by look over at the cab disgusted by what they see. He does this three or four more times and I wonder what the hell he’s been eating and drinking to have so much stuff to bring up. Eventually we arrive at his destination and he hands me £30 for the £26 fare and waits for the change. Now that I have the interior light on I have a better idea of what has happened and I see vomit all over the back window, inside and outside the door and assume it’s probably all down the outside of the cab as well. I decide to keep the change. He stands there looking stupid and I ask him what he’s waiting for. He wants his change. I ask him to return my cab to the state it was in before he got in and he’ll get his change. He tells me to keep the £4 and walks off. I’m now left with a heavily soiled taxi albeit mostly on the outside. I end up driving a few miles home and at 12.30 in the morning start to wash my cab with extra soap suds to get through all the crap that the driving had dried on. It’s a messy business when someone gets sick and even after it has happened to me so many times I never do what I say I will the next time it happens. I managed to get it smelling clean and looking serviceable again and went back to work and took another £60.

A few nights ago I was pulling in to drop a couple off at the Oxford Tube stop in Grosvenor Gardens when out of nowhere a wino staggered into my path. Had I been a second earlier I’d have run him clean over but as it was he bounced off the side of the cab, to the shock and horror of my two passengers, and landed on his arse. His wino pals, who were sitting on a nearby step and witnessed it all, jeered him. He then got up and started making a beeline for me, no doubt to have a go at me for almost killing him. My two passengers by this time had passed the money through the payment slot and had got out. The wino would never have been reasoned with so as he arrived at the cab shouting “oi you” I drove off, thankful that the traffic lights were on green.

As predicted by some cabbie commenters, the radio work has been pretty thin on the ground recently. I met a pal of mine recently who I’d been on the Knowledge with and he’s been on Radio taxis for years and he commented on how bad it was. I’m now reduced to taking credit card fares to earn enough to pay the weekly subs. I hadn’t done a credit card for a few weeks and one passenger wanted me to add a tip to the total but I couldn’t remember the procedure for editing the fare so I lost out to the tune of £5. I also have a sign in the window which asks passengers who want to use their cards to give me sufficient warning as they have to be swiped and processed at the head office. This sign is being completely overlooked and the other night I was presented with a card for payment by a nice French lady at the Sofitel St James’s. On swiping it I found I was in a radio dead-spot and couldn’t complete the transaction as my terminal couldn’t send the details to Control. I asked her to pay cash. She was three pounds short but rather than hang about and lose a fare that was waiting I let her off the three pounds. All in all I sometimes wonder if it’s all worth it.

My shift tonight started really well but ended prematurely. Being a Saturday night the demand for cabs was pretty good and I had a busy cab for the whole time I was out.
I stopped for a coffee and a Cornish Pasty (only a medium sized one!!) at Marylebone Station with Chris, our first coffee break since before he went to Thailand. We only got the stuff and returned to our cabs then talked while we queued up on the rank so as not to waste valuable earning time and he got a job to Wimpole Street whilst I got a better job to Chelsea. After a few more jobs I noticed there wasn't much heat coming from the heater so I checked the heat switch and it was right up on hot. The temperature gauge was right up to overheating level so I quickly pulled over before the engine blew up and checked the water tank. It was empty so I had an Evian bottle full of tap water, which I poured in. It wasn't quite enough but just enough to lower the temperature so I drove to the Texaco in Edgware Road and filled it right up. I moved the cab to a brighter and drier part of the garage and had a look underneath and could see water leaking from somewhere. Great!! That's all I needed. I got my little torch out and found that the radiator had sprung a leak. Not from a hose but from one of the metal elements, part of the radiator itself. Great thought I again, this just gets better and better. Nothing for it but to call it a night head to Tesco's to get some..........chocolate cheesecake for Katie and me. I drove home and sat with Katie, munching the cheesecake and felt a whole lot better. What I plan to do tomorrow is to go to work with loads of bottles of water and just work away, topping up when necessary and hopefully it will hold out until Monday when I'll be able to go to the garage where they'll probably give me a spare cab while they sort it out, hopefully on the same day. So luckily I'd earned most of my money and probably really should have carried on for a bit longer but I didn't fancy getting a long job somewhere only to find my one bottle of Evian wasn't enough to keep the temperature gauge down. I must join the AA because I may need them one night instead of waiting for the Mickey Mouse mechanics that most garages use to save money.

That’s all for now folks. Check back soon.

Take Care.

L.C.

Kippersnatch

2009-03-06T18:05:00.005Z

What's happened?
Where are you?
Have you died?
All questions being asked of me on a regular basis. I'm still around just not feeling bloggy lately. Things are still happening to me whilst at work and are being lovingly chronicled for future postings. May as well get one in here and now.

Before I begin might I just make a comment on the new U2 album, No Line On The Horizon, which was released here this week. After playing it to death on my PC and in the cab via my iPod I have to say it's another gem of an album by Bono and the lads. There are potentially three or four classic tracks on there. Tracks to watch out for: Magnificent and Moment of Surrender. Superb.

Work, work and more work. That’s all I seem to do these days. Some people have commented on the higher rent I pay for my TX4 and if I'm finding it a struggle. If you add that to the countless other bills I pay weekly then I could really have done without it but it's still a far better cab than the others I've been driving so well worth the extra. The so-called better suspension is causing me a concern though as it seems to have vanished and been replaced with what all the other cabs suffer from. Some would say I'm paranoid about it and maybe I am but for that amount of money you expect nothing less than a smooth ride over some of the worst roads in Europe, or even the world. Since I’ve been paying the weekly rent via the bank I haven’t been near the garage for a month. I’ve had to change a few bulbs here and there but overall it has been a problem-free month, which one would expect with a brand new cab.

I've been out on the streets solo for the last month as Chris has been away in Thailand. He returns tomorrow but probably will need another week to acclimatize back to UK conditions. It's still pretty chilly here in the evenings and some parts are still getting snow although London hasn't had any more since my last post.

The radio circuit I joined about six weeks ago hasn’t proved to be as busy as I might have liked it to be. I probably get offered a handful of jobs per shift but these only reach me after having been rejected by half a dozen other drivers either because the pick up is too far away or the job is basically…shit, for example, E2 to E8 or SE15 to SE27. To those of you that don’t know London postcodes let me translate for you. S.H.I.T. Having said that it does occasionally throw out a little gem and I had a nice ride recently from Maida Vale to Teddington Studios for a well-known TV presenter who used to be in Black Adder (Baldric).

The first few days of the week seem to be the worst when trying to earn my daily bread. As Thursday and the weekend approaches then people start to venture out and it all seems worthwhile once again. There’s been a lot of “brooming down the line” lately and I’ve had to be on my guard with doors locked. Some of these cabbies have no shame about passing on their unwanted crap to the guy behind and I wish they’d do the honourable thing and pull away from a rank instead of remaining there for a better job. I was waiting on the point of the Victoria rank one day last week. I’d done a major bit of bird (as I call waiting too long) when a couple of drunk birds approached the cab. One of them was holding on to the railings she was that bad and there and then I knew they weren’t going anywhere with me. As the first one approached she couldn’t even remember the name of her hotel so she searched her bag for a card and it turned out they wanted the Royal National in Russell Square, a nice enough job if the punters aren’t two rat-arsed Irish girls. In this case I did the honourable thing and refused them and then pulled off empty and went back to the end of the line where after another longish wait I got a job to Waterloo.

I ruined a whole shift recently by getting myself boxed in at St Pancras Station. It was already pretty late but I saw a few cabs waiting and figured these guys must know that there’ll be work coming out soon so I settled in at number three on the rank. Four, five and six pulled in behind me to complete the boxing-in and there we remained for an hour and a bit as everyone except me stood outside of their cabs chatting. After said amount of time they all realised the work had dried up and decided to pull off empty handed and try their luck elsewhere, what a waste.

The luggage space in the front of the cab is resembling a rubbish tip lately with empty wrappers, empty coffee cups and various other bits and bobs there including jump leads which I had to use recently to jump start my brother Johnny’s Beamer. I’ve been getting the cab washed regularly by the guys at Sainsbury’s in Ladbroke Grove and they do a really nice job but they only do the outside as I don’t trust them enough to leave it open while I go shopping.

A Russian female passenger recently commented that the back smelt of fish, bloody cheek!! It did get me thinking though and after she got out I opened the back door and had a long hard sniff and couldn’t smell anything so I surmised that she may have been smelling her own fumes as she was sat on the edge of the seat with her legs open. Cruel, possibly, but we do pick up some mingers from time to time don’t we lads?

Be Lucky

L.C.

White Taxi

2009-02-13T02:49:00.000Z

My cab, one day last week

Snow and Ice

2009-02-05T02:35:00.003Z

Hi folks
Time for another post for all those people out there looking for their latest fix.

Since my last post I have celebrated my 47th birthday (30th January). I went up to Ipswich to spend a bit of time with Jane and we had a nice night out at Temptations Chinese Buffet in the town centre. Those buffets are such good value and have such a massive range of dishes that people flock to them in droves and you have to book to get in. We never booked but simply turned up in the hope of getting a table and we were told we had from 7pm until 8.30 to eat and vacate the premises, which turned out to be ample time to stuff ourselves silly. That gave us the rest of the evening to………..do some stargazing!!

On my latest visit to the new taxi garage I met with the co-owner. He was much more business like than the other guy I’ve been seeing there and he insisted that I set up a standing order to pay the weekly cab rent on time. There are two problems I have with that. Firstly, the main reason I left the other garage and came to this one was because it was very close to where my parents live. I don’t visit as much as I’d like due to always working strange hours so moving to this garage would help me visit more often. Now that the money will be paid electronically I won’t get to do that. Secondly, those of you who’ve read the whole blog will know I like a bit of leeway when paying the rent. Now the money will go out every Friday whether I have it or not so if I’ve had a bad week then I’ll be in trouble. I suppose it will have to be a priority now ahead of my house rent and my Inland Revenue payments.

While I was there I got one of the mechanics to fit a headlight and a “For Hire” light bulb. According to my brother in law (Super Mechanic) who also has a TX4 the bulbs blow a lot more often than the other cabs so, at a fiver a pop for a headlight, it’s just as well I don’t have to pay for them. The day after I paid the cab (last Thursday) the other headlight blew so I’ve been the one eyed monster all week including the drive to and from Ipswich.

Fate decided that Sunday night would be the night when London had it’s worst snowfall for 18 years. It started around 6pm with just a few flakes and steadily progressed until the roads were a slippery and dangerous mess. It got so bad that the whole bus network was suspended as was a big part of the train network. This left many thousands of people stranded and those that could afford it in need of a cab ride.
Now, from past experience, if it has snowed heavy then the last place, as a taxi driver, you want to go is anywhere outside of the centre. The reason for this is because you basically end up stranded on impassable roads and stuck on hills. The passenger then gets out and leaves you there to get on with it. So with taxis as the only way home for most people most of the journeys would have ended well outside the centre had I opted to take them but I had to be ruthless and put my own well being first and pick only the shorter jobs that would have kept me in the work. Victoria Station was one such place where I drove in with my doors locked to find a whole queue of people all wanting to go to places like Croydon and Norbury and various other destinations in South and South East London. They’d obviously been there a while and probably been refused by many a cabby so as I slowed at the rank they tried to get in first (possession is nine tenths of the law) and ask questions later. I knew it was going to be stressful working this way so I decided to go home after this job and selected a couple going to Parsons Green. Even this journey was treacherous and I got stuck twice. The first time, as I turned right from Buckingham Palace Road into Pimlico Rd and then again at the junction of Kings Road and Lotts Road where the road elevates over a hump back bridge. I dropped them near Kebab Kid which was still open so I pulled over and treated myself to one of the finest Chicken Shawarmas you’ll get anywhere in London. The radio was going berserk trying to cover work to all corners of London but I’d had enough for one night and crawled home.
The next day proved to be a bumper day for me as at least 50% of all cabs must have been snowed in in the suburbs and the streets were devoid of any traffic. The work was mental. One in, one out everywhere. All of it staying local. I don’t think I crossed the Thames all night. It got really icy on the roads around 2am on the Tuesday morning and I lost control of the cab in Ladbroke Grove. Had anything been coming the other way I would have had a head on smash but luckily the streets were empty and I managed to creep home unscathed. It reminded me of a time in the eighties when I was driving to work one winters morning and I hit black ice on Bollo Lane. The Morris Marina I was driving spun about five times, mounted the pavement, smashed off a wall missing loads of cars on the way and landed back in the road the same way I’d been driving. I didn’t even stop to check the damage I just carried on to work in shock. Dodgy stuff that black ice.

Another thing that happened this week was that I finally scuffed my brand new hub cabs. I decided to stop for a coffee in Cranbourne Street and pulled in to the snow and ice filled right hand side only to hear a grinding sound as the oversized hubcaps scraped the kerb. I was quite upset for a few moments as I’d really tried my best not to let that happen but I think most cabbies will agree that inevitably it always happens.

Four days on and there’s still a lot of snow and ice about with more being forecast.
I stopped for a coffee in Kings Road with Chris tonight and as we sat in my cab putting the world to rights there was a couple of drunks rolling about on the opposite pavement. It was such a funny sight watching them try and get each other up only for them to fall over again. The Chelsea locals seemed appalled and disgusted as they walked past and I thought to myself that I bet one of them would call the police. The two drunks managed to get on their feet and headed for the restaurant and shopping complex at Duke of Yorks Square. Within minutes a police car had pulled up and two officers raced into the complex. Chris and me decided to be nosey and locked up the cab and walked into the square. One of the two drunks was nowhere to be seen but the other one was surrounded by police and the complex’s security guards. We walked past and tried to listen to what was being said and could only glean that the man was Polish and was being asked for ID by one of the policemen. Nothing more to be seen here so we went back to work and I only managed a few more jobs before I had to rush home with dodgy Newingtons. Don’t ask.

Catch you later.

L.C.

Happy New Year

2009-01-19T08:48:00.003Z

Hi folks

Happy New Year to everyone and here's hoping it's a goodun.

We just celebrated my parents 50th Wedding Anniversary this weekend and family from all over England and Scotland converged on a community centre in Kingsbury, North London to pay their respects. It was organised by my sisters and we all had our part to play by either making some of the food, organising the decoration of the hall or compiling some sort of video tribute to the last 50 years. I think everyone who attended would say it went extremely well and also what a crying shame it was at the amount of food wastage there was at the end. It was also the first chance my girlfriend has had to meet the whole family. She was extremely nervous and apprehensive but needn’t have been as she was warmly welcomed by everyone.

On the work front it has been a very trying time as London tries to get back to normal after Christmas. Some days have been soul destroying as we’ve been driving round aimlessly on empty streets unable to get on already overfilled ranks. These last few days have seen a slight recovery and hopefully a partial return to busier times. There’s definitely an air of doom and gloom everywhere and that could be a major factor why people are not going out and spending their money.

So while the slump goes on there are still bills to be met and the taxi rental to be paid to my new garage weekly. After a month of driving around in my nice shiny new TX4 it is now starting to loosen up and wear in a bit. A few weeks ago it developed a knocking sound when the steering was turned right. Then the knocking got worse to the point where it was either to the left or to the right. I asked at the garage and they told me it would probably be something they couldn’t touch because it would invalidate the warranty so inevitably it started giving me the hump (aka pissing me off)!! I went to the garage on Thursday and demanded they have a look and as it turned out the nuts and bolts on the two rear trailing arms (any ideas??) had worked loose and a quick few turns with a spanner sorted that problem out. I’ve really taken to the cab in a big way and love everything about it especially, trivially too, the auxiliary wire that connects my iPod to the stereo. I’m in a Bon Jovi phase at the moment and recently bought their whole back catalogue and transferred it to the iPod. So I’m enjoying my quiet evenings on the taxi ranks of London with the sound of Bon Jovi blasting out to anyone who cares to listen. Current favourite track is “It’s my life” from the “Crush” album.

The cold and wet weather has probably also contributed to keeping all the troublemakers indoors as I don’t seem to have many stories to tell you since the last post. I did have a few near misses with drunk girls almost getting sick in my brand new cab and me almost losing my cool and throwing them out but it all came to nothing in the end. A few times I’ve been approached on taxi ranks and asked to take a dodgy looking someone to a far away place but I’ve always insisted on payment in full upfront (something I would never have done a few years ago) and the ones who refused to pay upfront remained where they were. I did let my cool persona slip a few weeks back when I was blatantly cut up in Earls Court Road by a bus. This prompted me to overtake him and slam my brakes on in front of him, probably scaring the passengers witless. As I slammed them on he went back round me and did the same to me until we met at the lights at Cromwell Road and exchanged pleasantries with a few hand gestures thrown in for good measure. Silly boys stuff really, not to mention downright irresponsible but we have to make our own amusement in these quiet times ;o)

I’ve applied to re-join Radio Taxis and have been given a date for the installation of the equipment for one day this week. Hopefully I’ll become a proper “radio man” and work it properly. In recent years I’ve always started off enthusiastically but the novelty soon wears off and I become too choosy in regards to the destinations of the jobs. Then I become disillusioned and eventually get the equipment stripped out. I know there’s a credit crunch on but there will hopefully still be work on there and I’ll also be able to do credit cards again which have sometimes proved to be quite lucrative. Watch this space as they say.

Take Care

L.C.

TX1 to TX4

2008-12-20T12:40:00.003Z

Hi folks

Since my last post, I suppose the main news I have to tell you is that finally, after moaning and bitching about the state of my cab for the last couple of years, I have finally done something about it and moved on to another garage and am now the proud renter of a brand spanking new TX4 Silver.

It's costing me another £40 per week but after having driven it for the last few days I'm sure I've made the right decision.

On a recent return trip from Ipswich I was driving an R reg TX1, as my V reg was in overhaul, and I couldn't even overtake a group of lorries on the M25 as that particular cab had no guts. It was quite embarrassing as I got stuck between a lorry and a van and I think they were messing with me and there was nothing I could do about it.

A day or two later my mate SilverChris, not the other Chris, rang to say that the garage that does work on his cab had just purchased four brand new TX4's and was looking for reliable drivers so after a bit of a think I decided to take the plunge.

Now came the tricky bit. To tell my current garage that I was leaving them for pastures new. Anyone that knows me will know that I can be a bit of a pussy when it comes to confrontations and face-to-face exchanges. So, on the Thursday morning just gone, there I am lying in my pit pondering the meaning of life when my garage rings to say that my V reg is ready for collection after having just been overhauled. OK says me I'll be there in a bit. Now bear in mind I've already agreed with the new garage that I'll be renting from him as soon as the cab is available. 2 minutes later the bloke at the new garage rings to say the TX4 is ready and waiting and what time will I be going to collect it? Panic sets in as my brain tries to absorb these two bits of information. Anyone else reading this would say, "what's the problem? Just give one cab back and go to the other garage and get the nice shiny new one. It's a no brainer" but as I said I have always had a problem leaving one garage for another and over my eighteen years as a cabby have had my wife, mother in law and even Chris go into various garages with some story or other just so that I didn't have to face the owner. None of the above three were instantly available to get me out of this one so I decided to stop being such a wimp and to ring my garage back. One of the mechanics answered and said the owner had just popped out. “Result!!” Thought I. I hung up, jumped out of bed and raced round there so that I could give the cab back to one of the other guys and tell them I wouldn't be back, citing personal reasons. As I approached the garage my heart sank as the owner was standing there chatting to another driver. He waved at me in his friendly Greek way and my brain started ticking as to what I was going to say to him. "Hello mate" I said to him. "I should have rung you a few days ago as I have to go away for a few weeks to sort out some family trouble in Spain" (Where the hell did that come from, I thought). "Nothing serious I hope" says the owner. "I can't really say but I'll ring you as soon as I know when I'll be coming back" "No problem, I hope it all works out" he says all concerned. I felt a bit annoyed with myself at having to deceive him like that as I've always got on well with him and effectively, this would be the last time I would probably ever see him again. Still, that's a part of me that I can't do anything about so I'm stuck with it. I paid him for the three days I owed him and left to make my way to the new garage. As I walked down Holloway Road towards the tube station I felt like I was starting out on a new adventure and even felt a tingle of excitement. After studying the tube map at Holloway Station I deduced it would be too awkward to get the tube as I would have to go south to go north so I bought an Oyster Card and got two buses to Edgware where the new garage is situated. Having been behind the wheel of a cab for so long it felt strange to be on the top deck of a London bus. I sat at the back and read a paper. I changed buses at Friern Barnet and boarded the number 221 and after a few stops the bus was invaded with school kids. They all made their way upstairs and sat all around me and started messing about, throwing things at each other and annoying all the passengers who chose to move away leaving me isolated in the corner at the back. I just continued reading and thought that I would just ignore all the noise even though I found it all quite intimidating. Stop by stop the school kids disembarked and soon all was quiet and orderly again. The bus terminated at Edgware so I got off and was suddenly overcome with the urge to eat as I had been on the go for the last few hours. I went in to the KFC there and had a filet tower burger and a diet coke and walked the short distance to the garage. As I arrived at my unfamiliar new garage, the boss, who had been expecting me, guessed it was me by saying my name and I shook his greasy hand and entered his office to fill in forms and hand over a weeks rent up front. Once the formalities were over he took me outside to show me round the shiny new black cab. One thing that caught my eye straight away was the Blaupunkt CD player and an auxiliary lead protruding from it. This would enable me to hook up my beloved iPod and continue to enjoy my music as I have done in the other cab via the tape deck and a dummy cassette. We shook hands again and he reiterated that he'd like me to pay promptly every Thursday or Friday as he had payments to meet. I thought to myself that if he'd spoken to my previous garage to see if I was a prompt payer then he may not have taken me on but I have been a much better payer in recent months so I don't anticipate any problems. As I drove away the throttle stuck down and I had to brake with the engine racing. "What now" I thought to myself. I immediately put it in reverse and let the revs take me back to the garage entrance where the boss was standing there. I told him the throttle was stuck and he opened my door and saw immediately that the pedal had caught on the mat (which incidentally was an old manky one pulled out of an old cab and spoiling the look of the new cab). He said I could either remove the mat or trim it and I drove away again. Being in the same neighbourhood as my parents I took the opportunity to visit them and then made my way home to prepare for my nights work in the new cab.
So, as I write this I've done a couple of shifts and am now getting used to the cab. There are many differences to a TX1 but it eventually falls in to place and I know I have made the right choice. I'm looking forward to my next visit to Ipswich and to get my own back on all those lorries on the M25 and A12 ! !

So all that remains is to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year 2009.

Take Care Out There ! !

L.C.

Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire

2008-11-24T02:20:00.000Z

Hi all
I have cable TV at home and they offer On Demand programmes which I find suits me better as I can, after a hard nights graft, settle down with a nice cuppa and maybe a tray of donuts or, lately, a few pounds of roasted chestnuts, to watch a huge range of programmes which I can start when I’m ready to watch. So, flicking through the available programmes I came across one called Taxicab Confessions. It’s been on there for ages but I’ve never fancied watching it but the other night I gave it a go and was greatly entertained for the next few hours. For those of you who don’t know it’s a programme where up to 6 miniature cameras are attached to the inside of various cabs. In the two shows I saw the cabs were either NYC Yellow Cabs or Las Vegas cabs. I would imagine that there were lots of footage of uninteresting fares that ended up on the cutting room floor but the ones that made it to the screen were immensely entertaining and some of them actually quite raunchy with plenty of boobs being flashed and sexy goings-ons, well, going on. Similar things have happened in the back of my cab but the occurrences are very few and far between and those on TV seemed a lot more exciting.

The cold weather is well and truly upon us and we’ve had quite a few instances of snow up and down the country. I looked out of my bedroom window this morning and the cab was white but after a few hours it had all melted. The cold weather is great for finding out if your battery is any good. A couple of Sundays ago as I was starting work and making my way to Paddington I was flagged by a guy in Warrington Crescent who only wanted a jump start. Luckily I had leads with me as he never had any and I managed to get him going in a few minutes. My own taxi battery is probably in need of replacing because after a recent 3-day visit to Ipswich to see Jane it barely started so I may need to tell the guys at the garage tomorrow when I go there to pay the two weeks rent I now owe them.

It’s also a good thing that my heater works well as most people jumping in these days are relieved when that blast of warmth hits them. A few days ago I was driving up St James’s Street when a couple of guys came out of Just St James’s restaurant. They were both wearing army greatcoats and their bearskin headgear like the guys that stand watch at Buckingham and St James’s Palaces. I thought they may have been in fancy dress and asked if they were for real. They answered that they’d just finished guard duty and had popped in for a drink. I was inclined to believe them as army guys have a certain way about them and use a totally different language to everyone else like calling you “chap” instead of “mate”.

There’s a new shopping centre at Shepherds Bush called Westfield. It’s enormous. I popped in to check out the cab rank for the first time and after waiting 20 minutes without the rank having moved up once I pulled off completely disillusioned with the place. Apparently motorists have to pay to park there so I think most people will continue using Brent Cross for the meantime.

I’ve only got a few items of any interest to report since my last post. I had a “scream up” with another cabbie because he reckoned I knicked a job which should’ve gone to the rank. The incident happened on the north side of Sloane Square when I pulled in for a couple of old dears. They were going to Beaufort Street so I had to drive round the square back into Kings Road. As I got caught in traffic by the rank this jobsworth cabbie, who must have eyes like a hawk, got out of his cab and started piping up that I should’ve sent them across to the rank from the other side. Now, I’m all for cab etiquette but in this instance I disagreed so we had a bit of a slanging match whilst the bemused old dears just sat in the back taking it all in. By the way it was Friday night and buzzing everywhere so he really should get a life.

Later on in the shift I trapped a couple going to Southfields from Kensington High Street. They started kissing passionately and the girl decided to straddle the guy, I suppose for better access. I was trying to cop a look through the rear view when I belatedly noticed that some lights I was approaching had turned red. I slammed the brakes on and the two of them shot forward and ended up with a thud on the cab floor. I thought they may be hurt but I was also embarrassed at having slammed on the brakes so I made out I never heard anything. After a few minutes I heard them talking as if nothing had happened and they remained on the floor until we entered their area and I had to ask for directions. They never mentioned anything and neither did I.

So, as December approaches we’re starting to see the first signs of festive spirit with quite a few homes around town already putting up their exterior decorations. I was in Ipswich last week for the turning on of the Christmas light but they hadn’t even put a tree up. They had a nice roasted chestnut stall there though and I warmed myself up with a five quid bag and even ate the rest of Jane’s chestnuts. I love ‘em.

Take Care out there and watch out for black ice on the roads.
LC

The Obama Edition

2008-11-06T19:05:00.002Z

Hi folks
Has it been that long again?

Well here I am again, sitting at the PC with my trusty Jack Russell at my side. He’s only here because I’m eating a bag of Pistachio nuts and is hoping for a hand out. He’s already had about a third of the bag but until he hears the rustle of the empty packet he hangs around just in case. Don’t you Dude? (like the name?)

I guess I should give a mention to president-elect Barack Obama who as we all know will lead the free world into happier times, hopefully. He’s already said it may not happen this term, or the next so that’s all bases covered just in case he turns out to be no better than Bush. Good luck to him all the same as he’s going to need it.

My girlfriend, who’s called Jane, doesn’t like me mentioning her on here so I won’t other than to say it’s all going well, extremely well and we just had a great break in Norfolk where we visited the towns of Kings Lynn, Sandringham, Huntstanton and Wells-next-the-sea. She’s also just started a new job in her hometown of Ipswich and is, as far as I can tell, enjoying herself. I’ve probably already said too much for her liking so I’ll stop but as it’s a blog about me and my life I felt I should update anyone who’s remotely interested.

And so to work. As I’d be lost without my notes I’m going to refer to them and write chronologically if that’s OK with you all and I’ll try and make it sound as interesting as I can.

Sunday 12th October. Did about 17 jobs going to all corners of London. Whilst on the phone to Chris (remember him?) I was driving a guy to the Citadines on Northumberland Avenue from Victoria. I had both earphones in so as to hear Chris clearly when I notice the guy in the back gesticulating through the mirror. I’d been deep in conversation and suddenly snapped back to reality when I realised I’d gone sailing past Northumberland Avenue and was fast approaching Waterloo Bridge. I removed one earphone and made my apologies and looked for somewhere I could legally make a U turn. It’s not a very nice feeling when you do something wrong and it makes you look unprofessional. There’s no option but to knock a couple of quid off the fare and keep apologising but as it turned out this guy found the funny side of it and paid me, including a tip.

During that same shift I was returning from town after dropping of at Ontario Tower and was double-flashed by the camera in the Limehouse Link. It shows up in the trade paper as one of the camera hotspots but as of yet I haven’t received any notifications so hopefully I won’t receive any more penalty points this year.

Monday 13th October. I was all set for work when another cabbie mate of mine also called Chris, but we call him Silver Chris, popped in for me to have a look at his PDA, which was on the blink. As I’ve mentioned before, most PDA’s need to be used constantly as they lose their charge and all data is lost. The long and short of it was that I couldn’t get the satnav to work so convinced Chris to buy a similar PDA to the one I use. Before he had time to give it a second thought I’d surfed to eBay and he’d bought the required items and then had to log onto Paypal to pay for them. He told me after that he’d felt like he’d been raped as it was all over so quick and he was several pounds (£’s) lighter because of it. The items have since arrived and I have installed satnav and mapping software for him and he couldn’t be happier. I sold the other PDA on eBay and recouped most of what he’s spent so all’s well that ends well.

Thursday 16th October. Jane came to town for the day and we had a pleasant few hours at Brent Cross Shopping Centre before she went home with her son.

Friday 18th October. Was a stressful shift on account of being caught in the West End and unable to get out. I fought my way to Piccadilly westbound and was hailed by the doorman of The Ritz. The trouble was that I had stopped on a box junction, which is monitored by cameras and he turned away to go and get the passengers leaving me stranded and blocking the road. Five bubbly girls then approached me and asked for Sloane Square so I told them to jump in. Girls never just jump in, they have to faff about first. So, I’m still blocking the road, the traffic is honking at me to get out of the way and these girls are all deciding who should get in (as there was 10 in the party). I’m fed up, I’m stressed out so inevitably, like every dormant volcano, I eventually blow!!!!! I could probably be struck off for this but I effed and blinded for all I was worth and eventually they all crammed in and I pulled off the box junction. Then one of them decided to spoil it for all of them. “And don’t fucking swear at us right?” she piped up. The red mist descended over me and I swerved in to the pavement and just said “out!!!”

Her: Oh come on mate we’ve waited ages for a cab
Me: I don’t give a f***, get out.
Her: Why?
Me: Because you should learn to keep your mouth shut.
(Can I just say that after the fact I wasn’t too proud of myself and this sort of thing only happens once in a blue moon)

I was on the phone to the gf at the time and it was the first time she’d heard me lose my cool and wasn’t too impressed with me. The five girls all filed out of the cab and the last one left the door open telling me to get out and close the door myself. There was a nice couple waiting right there for a cab so they just got in and closed the door and I was off to the Intercontinental Hotel just up the road.

The following Saturday 25th October I did my shift without any dramas and at around 3am I dropped off in Selsdon, deepest South London, set my satnav for Ipswich and set off. For the next three days I could forget about work and enjoy some female company and build up my strength for the following Wednesday when I would return to work.

On the Thursday I got up bright and early and headed out to do some chores. I ended up round the back of the Cumberland hotel where there is a cab rank and I walked round to the Prêt a Manger for a latte and a cheese and pickle baguette. I placed the coffee on the dash while I ate my baguette and then forgot all about it as I accelerated away. The coffee upended and burst open all into the luggage-well. I was gutted, to say the least. Now a week later and the milk that soaked into the carpet is now going off and there is a very peculiar smell emanating from it. I gave my daughter a lift somewhere the other day and as she got in she said it smelt of “arse”. Passengers, being polite, wouldn’t say anything but I’m sure they can smell it too. I bought a tin of Febreeze last night and I think it’s masking the smell quite well.

Last Saturday, the 1st of November was a very busy shift. The fanbelt had been screeching for the last few days and I tried to adjust it with a lever I had but it wasn’t strong enough. I went to one of those pound shops on Kilburn High Road and bought the “Mother of all Crowbars”. I don’t know why they’re called pound shops because it cost me £6.99 but it did the job and also doubles as a bit of extra security for those long dark cold nights ahead. The shift went really well and I even picked up a nice job from Brixton out to Brentford, which is unheard of for me, but the Academy had just turned out and they were crying out for cabs.

Monday 3rd of October saw me take my daughter to the cinema to watch Eagle Eye. It was action packed from start to finish and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes fast paced films. The popcorn and drink was nice too.

Wednesday 5th November was Bonfire Night where everyone lets off fireworks and light fires with effigies of Guy Fawkes on top. Work was brisk and I started at Paddington with a job to the Marriot Marble Arch. On arriving the American offered me an American Express card. “Sorry mate I don’t accept cards” I said to him. “What if I don’t have any cash on me?” he says. “Then you shouldn’t be getting in to a cab without the means to pay” “But I do have the means to pay” waiving the card at me. “Not in this cab mate, you’d better go inside and get some cash”. He wasn’t too impressed. I’d stopped the meter at £5 when we arrived and had I kept it going it would have now been at around £8 by the time he returned but all I got was the £5 and not even a thank you nor anything similar.

The next few jobs kept me in and around central London so I stopped for a bite to eat at the Astral in Regency Street. I bought a tuna and sweetcorn baguette a latte and a custard tart and drove up to the Raft in Victoria to wait for a job whilst eating but as I arrived there was a burst on and I had to eat as I drove my fare to……..wait for it……back to Regency Street. On the way there I clipped the back of a cab that had made a half left turn then stopped abruptly and now I have a nice scuff mark spanning both my nearside doors and my rear wheel arch. I have to go to the cab garage to pay the rent tomorrow so I hope they have a new advert to cover the marks up. I waited for the driver of the cab to get out and approach me but after a few moments he never bothered so neither did I.

The only thing to ruin my night other than the scuff marks was when I dropped a nice lady in Putney and asked for the £25 fare. She handed me what I thought was a twenty and a five and I drove off. On closer inspection I saw that it was a ten and a five so I’d done myself out of a tenner, which took me a while to get over, I actually felt like chinning someone but it wore off eventually. What goes around comes around.

You may have noticed the Coolbox Hire link in my side bar. That company belongs to my sister and she had a large order of 10 cool boxes that needed delivering last week. Today they needed collecting and returning to her so I helped her out by picking up five of the said boxes. The traffic there and back was ridiculous and I don’t know why anyone would want to put themselves through that on a daily basis. No thanks. I’ll stay on nights for now.

Catch you all later. LC

AW Says We're Quits!!!

2008-10-12T04:01:00.002+01:00

Hi there people
Over the last few weeks I’ve been over to Suffolk to visit the gf a few times, had a few ding-dongs and made up again so at present everything is hunky dory and long may it remain so. I visited Bury St Edmunds on my latest trip and spent a few rainy hours there. I’ll have to return in the summer to check it out properly as I was well impressed with the place.

On the work front all I’ve been reading and hearing about is the bloody credit crunch. There’ve been banks collapsing left right and centre, other companies folding, billions wiped off share values but I’ve found it busier than ever out there so obviously people still can’t be too skint as they’re taking more cabs than ever at present. Long may that continue too.

90% of all customers are fantastic but there are still the few idiots out there who try your patience. A few days ago I was hailed by a couple of guys who looked dodgy, to say the least, at Vauxhall. They wanted me to drive somewhere nearby to collect someone who was “ill**” and then drive them all to a hospital in Carshalton. I asked if that person were likely to be “ill” in the cab, and by that I meant were they likely to get sick. Their answer wasn’t convincing enough so I refused. The last thing I needed at that time on a Friday night was a cab full of puke, and the smell that always accompanies it. One of them proceeded to kick and punch the cab as I started driving away, almost certainly denting one of the rear panels. I was chatting to the gf at the time and lost my rag and was just about to jump out and dent a few of his panels when the gf convinced me it wouldn’t be worth it and her soothing tones soon calmed me down. (Cheers darling!!) But this sort of behaviour can be a regular occurrence in the evenings and thankfully it isn’t my cab but a lot of owner drivers out there wouldn’t have let it go so any potential cab booters out there reading this please think twice before you do it.

** Ill invariably means pissed as a newt and likely to get sick especially on longer journeys.

I picked a guy up in Cavendish Square the other night. He’d been to the nightspot at No.5 where inside he’d met and spoken to ex page 3 model and pop star Samantha Fox and her lesbian partner (according to him). He’d been intoxicated by Fox’s apparent beauty and couldn’t wait to tell everyone about it. Once he’d finished telling me he rang his mother and about four different friends and had the same conversation with all of them. She had obviously made an impression on him and I had to admit to myself that in the late 70’s and 80’s she’d been a page 3 favourite of mine along with the luscious Linda Lusardi. Oh Happy Days!!!

I was driving along the western end of the Kings Road when a guy flagged me down and asked to be taken to East Dulwich. “Simple enough route” thought I. “Over Chelsea Bridge, Clapham Old Town, Acre Lane, Herne Hill blah blah blah Simple”
“Why are you taking me this way?” he pipes up.
Me: What way should I be going then?
Him: Vauxhall Bridge or even Westminster Bridge. (He’s obviously on drugs!!)
Me: What from where I picked you up?
Him: That’s the way I drive it.
Me: But that don’t make it the right way.
Him: I use satnav and it always gets me to my destination.
Well all I can say in answer to that is thank God for the Knowledge.

I was dropping four Aussies in Harlesden recently when my phone started ringing. A check of the caller display told me it was none other than Titanic, my mate Chris.

Him: Where are ya? (This is said in an Irish accent, don’t ask)
Me: Harlesden.
Him: I’m holding a job here to Northwood Hills and she wants a price. D’you want it?
Me: Yeah, where abouts are you?
Him: Baker Street.
Me: Go on then.

He’s done this for me before whilst waiting at Baker Street Underground Station for a radio job but I’m often a lot nearer. The danger is the passenger won’t want to wait and they’ll walk out onto the street and get another cab there. So I had to drive like a maniac all the way from Harlesden cursing every red light that seemed to be changing as I approached. He got her to wait in the cab and I was there in about 10 minutes and finished my shift with a nice fifty pound ride out into my favourite part of London. Cheers Chris I owe you another one, mind you AW says we’re quits!!!!

Being a diabetic it goes without saying that I have to watch what I eat. By the same token I also have to watch it if I don’t eat as I can be in danger of suffering from low blood sugar, or a hypo, as it’s called. I had to drop my daughter at Charing Cross recently and as I approached Admiralty Arch, as I hadn’t eaten anything all day a hypo started taking a grip of me. I started feeling really rough and knew I had to get some food inside me pronto so I chucked her out at the Arch as the traffic was solid and spun round and headed for the Astral Café in Regency Street and ordered a Spag Bol. While I stood with all the other cabbies waiting for my food I grabbed a bar of chocolate out of the fridge and started munching it. It takes about 15 to 20 minutes for the nourishment to kick in so as I sat in my cab after my meal a wave of relief washed over me and I was good to go about 15 minutes after that. I must get a stash of sugary things and keep them in the boot for such occasions.

Saturday the 4th of October found me driving south down Marylebone High Street when four dudes flagged me down and asked for the Griffin Strip Club in Clerkenwell Road. They were all well oiled or even high on something but they asked for some music and if it could possibly be rock music. Now, as some of you might know, I often have my radio on whilst eating my meals in the cab and my radio station of choice is Virgin. Well they have recently changed their name to Absolute Radio as apparently Richard Branson has nothing to do with them anymore. They have a female DJ on in the evenings (don’t know her name yet) who plays all the great numbers from the 70’s and 80’s. I’m talking Pink Floyd, Led Zep, AC/DC, Yes, Free and many more. The four dudes started head banging (including air guitars) to Free’s Alright Now followed by Boston’s More Than A Feeling and were really pumped up by the time I arrived at their destination so I got a nice tip and plenty of thanks for the great music. So if you’re into rock check out Absolute Radio on FM or the net.

I went to the cab garage yesterday to pay my weekly rent and the owner was at the helm as all the hired help had finished for the day. His one solitary TX4 was still sitting there in the garage after the PCO revoked all the licences of the ’56 plated cabs due to them mysteriously catching fire. Luckily he only has the one and is still earning money from all his older cabs but I pity these one man bands that are now forced to rent another cab and still meet the payments for their useless TX4 whilst investigations are ongoing. The latest trade papers say that there will be compensation due when it’s all sorted but I would be very dubious of ever receiving a penny from them. Good luck to all affected cabbies out there.

Check back soon.

LC

Back From Spain

2008-09-25T04:02:00.000+01:00

Since my last post I have spent a week in the land of Spain where I go once a year with my mother. I never really enjoy it I just wait for the week to end and then return and get back in to my routine. I was a bit apprehensive of flying this time when I saw that my plane was to be an Airbus instead of the usual Boeing 737. But it all turned out ok and the return flight was the exact same plane as I sat in the same seat and noticed a few tell-tale marks that I’d seen on the way out.

When I arrived at Luton Airport last Wednesday (17th) Chris collected us and after dropping my mum at home he drove me to the cab garage to collect my cab. I rang the garage to let them know I was on my way and the owner got on the phone to tell me he thought that I was taking two weeks off and that he’d rented out my cab to someone else. I was to ring him the next day to see if he had anything else available. Fine, thought I. I’ll use this as an excuse to find another garage as I’d been wanting to try somewhere else for ages. Chris had a trade paper in the cab and we started looking through it and trying a few numbers. Nobody had any cabs immediately available and it was looking like I’d be taking an extended holiday. Just when I was getting used to the idea of an extra day off my regular garage rang me back to say that they had a TX4, which I could use for a few days. It’s the only one in the garage and the regular driver was away on holiday. I went straight round there to collect it. I’d heard a lot about these cabs such as the smoother suspension and the faster acceleration but at the end of the day it was just another cab, which would cost me another forty quid a week if I were to rent it permanently. I worked it for two shifts, Wednesday and Thursday, and to be honest, I wasn’t overly impressed and was actually glad to get my own TX1 back on the Friday. The owner told me he’d taken it to have the gearbox serviced but as soon as I drove it out of the garage I could smell the gearbox fluid burning on the exhaust, a smell that wasn’t there last week. I’ve been working it all week and have even driven to see my girlfriend who lives in Suffolk and the smell has been there permanently. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it much longer so hopefully I’ll get a call from one of those other garages that took my details to tell me that they have a nice cab waiting for me.

On the work front it’s been pretty steady. I always think that after the school restart at the beginning of September the work picks up until Christmas and then dies off again.

About a week before I went to Spain I picked up three guys in the West End and they asked to be taken to Mile End. They were chatting away to each other and as I drove through Whitechapel one of them asked me to stop for cigarettes. I pulled in to the Shell garage on Whitechapel road and one of them got out. The one who seemed the most dominant of the three calls out to me and says (in a strong Russian accent) “hey, can you stop the meter?”
Me: What for?
Him: Because we are not moving.
Me: But you are still in the taxi enjoying the comfort.
Him: But we are not going anywhere.
Me: Tell me something, would you work for nothing?
Him: No
Me: Well then. The meter stays on.
Him: OK I understand. Business is business.
Me: Exactly.
The other guy returned with the cigarettes and we proceed. A few minutes down the road and the Russian (I think the other two were Scandinavian) says that we need to stop again to buy some Vodka. He’s actually getting on my tits now with the way he speaks to me but I play it cool and start looking for an open off license. He starts directing me to Roman Road and is telling the other two that they’re going back to his place to have a good drink. All of a sudden one of the Scandinavians asks me to stop and turns to the Russian to tell him that they’re not comfortable with whats happening. The other Scandinavian was very quiet and had his head bowed, as if embarrassed. The first man starts telling the Russian that they don’t mean to offend him but they just want to go back to their “nice, safe hotel” in Central London. The Russian starts getting all offended and tells them that in his country if you refuse to have a drink of Vodka with someone its taken as a massive insult. So this goes on for a few minutes with me sitting there, the meter ticking over and the other man sitting silently until eventually the Russian gets out leaving me to drive these two guys back to their hotel in Portman Square and pocket a nice fee of fifty pounds. There was definitely something dodgy about the Russian and they could see it. As soon as he got out the two Scandics started jabbering away in their own language and were laughing and joking with each other, no doubt relieved at the close shave they’d just experienced.

I had one bit of grief worth mentioning last month when a man approached me on the rank at Victoria. He asked me to take him to Enfield. As he opened the door another man got in instead. They were obviously together but only this man was going to Enfield and he was rat-arsed drunk and instantly fell asleep. As I wound my way through the streets he suddenly awoke and opened one of the doors whilst I was stopped at the traffic lights in Harewood Place. I thought he was getting out so I pulled over and stuck my hazards on, blocking everything behind me. He never got out so I asked him what he was doing and he told me to carry on, waiving me forward. I knew at that point I wasn’t taking him any further and asked him to pay up and get out. We started arguing and I jumped out and started shouting at him whilst everyone in the McDonalds enjoyed the show. He was accusing me of all sorts and reckoned it should only cost a tenner to Enfield from Victoria and that he’d done the trip many times before. I changed tactics and started talking to him more gently saying that I was trying to earn a living to support my family and was he always in the habit of ruining cab drivers nights etc etc and he eventually came round to my way of thinking, paid up and nearly got run over in Oxford Street as I drove away. I think I’m getting better at spotting the nutters and dealing with the situation before its too late and I’m caught out in the sticks seriously out of pocket.

The best four days of the week are upon us now so hopefully I can earn plenty and have a few stories to tell you over the next week.

Check back soon. LC

Get Well Soon Ed

2008-08-28T16:28:00.002+01:00

Hello everyone and apologies for the slow down in posting but as I said in the last one I’ve been otherwise engaged. Talking of which I recently spent a few days out of town visiting aforementioned person and enjoying the delights of the east coastal towns of Lowestoft and Great Yarmouth. Being an ex-seafaring person I took the opportunity to do a bit of boat-spotting and visiting in the ports of Felixtowe and Lowestoft and all those happy memories from my days gone by came flooding back. I think you have to have done it to appreciate it. I also bought a souvenir boat to go with my ever-growing collection in my maritime themed bedroom. We also visited the model village in Yarmouth and I was overheard saying that it was similar to the one in Beaconsfield to which the village person said “yes but this one’s better than Beaconsfield”. I’m not sure about that but will have to check it out again some day.

So as my annual trip to Spain approaches I have to say I don’t really fancy it this year. I could think of a few better things to do instead of sweltering in 90-degree heat for a week with my mother but as it’s an annual commitment then I’ll just have to grin and bear it.

While I’m on the subject of family may I just mention my cousin Ed who is recovering in hospital in Northallerton after a serious operation. Me and all my family wish him a speedy recovery after a very serious scare and our thoughts are with him, his mum and dad and his brother and sister at this time.

I’ve had some really nice jobs since I last posted.
Saturday the 2nd of August saw me sitting third on the South Kensington rank when a lady weighed down with shopping bags approached the front cab with a piece of paper. He shook his head and she approached the next one. He also shook his head and finally arrived at my window. The piece of paper was illegible but rather than refuse her I asked where she was going. In a heavily Russian-accented voice she asked for what sounded like the Pilsbury International Terminal. “Never heard of it” thought I, but never one to give up – in my thirst for knowledge- I took another look at the paper and noticed it was a map and ringed on it was an area east of London, not east London but east of London so putting two and two together I said “do you mean Tilbury??” “Da Tilbury” she exclaimed. I’d done a trip to a passenger ship here many years ago so I knew exactly where she wanted. Funnily enough on that occasion it was also Russian. I told her the fare would be in the region of £100 and she tried to haggle me down to £80 but I said no and off we went. The journey was uneventful but very pleasant and more maritime memories came flooding back as I approached Tilbury docks, as this was where I went on a ships visit as a student of the sea school in Gravesend in December 1978. (For any merchant sailors out there the visit was to the OCL container ship MV Discovery Bay. ) As I arrived at her ship the meter read £98.80 so not a bad estimate and she handed me £95 in notes and started fumbling about for the rest so I told her to forget it. As I was preparing to leave a couple emerged from the vicinity of the ship and asked if I was for hire. Now I’m not supposed to pick fares up outside the Met but as they only wanted to go locally I agreed to take them and I dropped them at the Park Inn at Thurrock and then made my way back to London.

The following night I was having a coffee with Chris at Marylebone Station and after we finished he went towards Paddington and I drove onto the station rank at Marylebone. A guy came out and asked if I also did trips out of town, “yes I do, where would you like to go?” I answered, barely able to contain my excitement. “High Wycombe” I got straight on the phone to Chris to gloat about a job which could have been his had he gone on to the rank ahead of me and he was well gutted.

I’m calling on all cabbies to help me out with something here. There’s a cut through from High Holborn via the archway to the Renaissance hotel, which ends up in Lincolns Inn Fields. Chris told me about it the other night and I had to go and see for myself. From what I can see it can be done both ways and is not illegal (as far as I can tell). Can any of you confirm this? I would imagine it’s used all day long when the traffic’s bad but there’s not much call for it at night. It’s a bit like the one at Lower Robert Street onto Savoy street, now there really is a “blinding little cut through” as my knowledge mate Noel used to say.

I recently had some trouble with my iPod and wasn’t able to connect to iTunes. I tried everything such as connecting to other computers and even went to the Apple store in Regent Street but the queue was too long. I eventually found an alternative program on the net called Annapod and bought it online and it now works fine and I can edit and add tracks to my heart content. Chris came round to add some songs to his iPod and when I hooked it up and tried to do a few transfers his whole iPod got wiped, all 2 and a bit thousand songs gone. He was quite philosophical about it, the old chris would have gone mental. He went off to work and I attempted to recover all the lost songs, which I eventually found in an Annapod folder so if any of you have the same problem connecting to iTunes I suggest this program, it’s only about fifteen quid.

I was visiting my girlfriend at her place of work in the St Johns Wood area when we decided we’d like fish and chips for lunch. I had parked the cab up in a side street and didn’t want to lose the space so decided to hail a cab in Finchley road. As a silver TX2 stopped for me I asked him if he minded taking me to the Seashell in Lisson Grove waiting and bringing me back and also did he mind the smell of fish and chips in his cab. I think he was going to refuse me but thought that it would probably be a nice job money-wise and agreed. I never told him I was a cabbie and he started giving me all the cabbie spiel to secure a better tip at journeys end. I just smiled to myself and humoured him. When we arrived at the Seashell I asked him if he fancied a portion of chips but he declined. They never had any rock salmon ready so I had to have cod, which is my least favourite fish. I made my way back to the cab, which had turned round to face the way we had come for the return journey. Back at my destination the fare ended up at £12 and I gave him £15 and I wished him luck for the rest of his shift. The cod wasn’t too bad but give me rock every time.

So for the next 13 days I have to graft hard to get everything ready for my week away. I paid my cab yesterday. For the last 6 weeks I have paid on time and have found it so stress free as opposed to those weeks when I have to find the best part of a grand. The genial Irishman has left the garage due to ill health and there is now a very efficient girl in the office called Nicola. I just had a new set of ads stuck to the side of the cab yesterday, which is already turning heads. I also asked the owner to consider me for the next TX2 that becomes available as I plan to make regular trips to Suffolk to see my gf who lives there. The new Mercedes Taxi is now out on our streets but I have yet to see one. I’ll be monitoring the feedback over the next few months and may even decide to get one of them. Watch this space.

The New Mercedes London Taxi

Theres nothin like a muffin

2008-08-02T06:30:00.003+01:00

Hello again to everyone. That was a long three days!!!!!

I said I wouldn't mention it but I will but won't name any names. I've been in a new relationship over the last few months and all my available time has been taken up with seeing this fantastic lady. She doesn't want to be mentioned on here so I won't say too much only that the last few months have been fantastic and I hope there are many more months and years ahead for us. That's all your getting from me on that subject.

My kids are all doing well in their various stages of life. My eldest son is still working for a top diamond company in the west end and has been moved from the IT department to the engraving section.

My second son, Michael, has been going to college over the last 9 months and has been studying building (plastering, brick laying. Carpentry etc). He has now landed a well paying semi-skilled labouring job and is really enjoying having money in his pocket. He's still playing darts and is thinking of stepping up to a higher level.

My daughter, katie, has just flown to San Diego to spend six weeks with her mother. Her grandparents have also gone for the second year in succession. When she returns she has a place in college to study photography.

I have been doing what I do best. Cab driving. I work pretty much the same hours every night and take pretty much the same money.

I recently had to swap my cab for another while it went up for it's six monthly inspection. When I got it back they had fitted a new steering wheel (no idea why) a new fuel cap (no idea why) new tyres all the way round and I think they've messed with the fuel mixture as it seems to run smoother. One thing they haven't touched, and for the life of me I don't know how they can get away with it, is the suspension. The non-existent one I'm always complaining about. To back up my complaint, the second passenger I picked up after getting the cab back said to me "Is your suspension knackered?" I started telling him my concerns and he concurred. He said he could feel every bump and seam in the road. All the other passengers I pick up are probably being polite by not saying anything about it but I would rather they did as I would end up finally leaving that garage for another. Chris is always saying that I must be a mug (but his word always starts with a C) for putting up with it but that's what I do, I take it and take it until I finally blow and do something about it. My annual trip to Spain is coming up on the 10th of September and I may use that as the excuse I need to finally move on by not returning to collect the cab on my return.

I’ve still been stopping with Chris for a meal or coffee break most days. We have three or four places where we’ll stop on any given night. Starbucks in Piccadilly is a regular as they have plenty of parking spaces outside and a fantastic selection of cakes and sandwiches to chose from. We’re pretty partial to the lemon and orange muffins but my favourite is still Rocky Road although lately I have found it way too sweet. One day last week I bought the coffees (Large lattes) and as I handed one to Chris as he sat in his cab he promptly dropped it on the floor, the lid popped off and all the contents spilled onto his carpet. He wasn’t best pleased.

As you all know I like to rank up on many of the railway stations to get my fares. The day before yesterday I was waiting on Kings Cross when an Arabic man came up to the window and asked for the Churchill Hotel in Portman Square. He proceeded to put a large case in the cab and got into the cab to push it further in. The door closed behind him without him touching it so I assumed he was done and drove away. He called out “Hey, what about my wife?” and when I looked back towards the rank a lady in all the Muslim gear was standing there with another case and frantically waving at me. Luckily the other cab behind me hadn’t pulled forward so I was able to reverse back about 10 yards and pick her up apologising profusely as she got in.

The rest of that shift went as planned and I reached my target at around 2.30, the last job ending up in Surrey Quays in South East London. I had my light on all the way back in to town but there wasn’t a soul about. The only bit of excitement was being caught as Tower Bridge was raised to allow a passenger liner that had been tied up next to HMS Belfast to leave the Pool of London on it’s onward journey. As it takes about 15 minutes to raise and lower it I stood outside the cab and watched the massive ship as it passed and all the passengers who weren’t sleeping decided to watch the departure from the decks and they waived at anyone who bothered to waive at them. Once it was on the east side the bridge was lowered and we all got back into our cars and cabs to continue on our way. I wondered where the ship was off to and envied those people on it.

Whilst on the London Bridge rank last week a pair of Catholic nuns were to be my fare. They asked to be taken to a convent near Jamaica Road which I had never heard of. As I left the station the left turn into St Thomas’s Street was closed off causing me to take an extended detour adding a good four or five pounds to the ride. Chris was on the phone to me at the time and slagged me off for “tucking them poor old nuns up”. When I arrived at the convent I knocked five pounds off the fare thus avoiding any further slagging and negative karma that may have been on its way to me.

I picked up an extremely drunk guy in Camden Town and he asked for Hendon. He told me he wanted Park Road so as I arrived I had to wake him as he had flaked out. As normally happens to waking drunks he didn’t have a clue where he was and started directing me all over the place. We finally arrived at his house after already having driven past it and he started looking for his money. At this point the meter was on £24. He had no money so we had to leave his house and find a cash point. Get to the cash point and he can’t find his wallet. Meter on £30. Back to his house to wake his unco-operative and pissed off brother. Meter on £37. Back to the cash point with his brothers card and the pin number won’t work. Meter on £44. Back to his house where he keeps me waiting like a lemon outside. I get out of my cab and bang on the door at 4am. He comes out apologetically with another card. I ask if there’s any point to all this and he says the card will definitely work this time. Back to the cash point. Meter on £53. No joy. I call him back over and tell him that he’s wasting my time and it’s costing him a fortune. I take him back home and get him to ring my phone so that I have his number and that I’ll come back when he’s sober and actually has my money which by now had reached £60. I drive away empty handed but go back the next morning after first confirming with him by phone that he had my money. This is the sort of crap that goes on during the night shift, who needs it?

Thursday 24th of July and I drop off an American guy in Golborne Road, Portobello and pull off heading for home. A young girl about 24ish frantically flags me down and asks for the notorious Wessex Estate about a mile away. She starts whispering into her phone (head turned towards the intercom which was on) “yeah, I’m on my way round, have you got it?” A drug run, I haven’t done one of these for ages. It’s normally blokes, which I end up leaving where they get out but as we arrived at the Ledbury Road side of the estate she handed me a twenty and said “don’t drive off I’ll be back in a minute”. I saw her enter one of the blocks and even saw the transaction take place with the hooded drug dealer. She was back in a few seconds and instructed me to return to where we had just come from. She spoke into her phone again telling the person on the other end that she’d “got it”. At that particular moment I felt a bit like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver and thought how crappy the job could be at times. She’d given me a twenty to stop me from driving off (I know of some who would’ve) and asked for it back handing me a ten in it’s place which by chance was exactly the total on the meter. That was enough for me and I switched the light off and went home.

So the days are different but the stories are the same. Who’d be a London Cabby?

Check back soon for more exciting accounts of life behind the wheel of a London taxi.

Still here!!

2008-07-07T14:16:00.004+01:00

I'm still out there punching.

I've had a few non-payers since my last post and my fair share of grief with drunks and losers.

One of the non-payers was picked up in Gospel Oak. She had a young guy with her but she was obviously the dominant one as she kept ordering him about. They asked to be taken to Camden Town but changed their mind on the way to an address not a million miles away from my home. Her phone rang and she told him to be quiet as it was her husband. The poor guy nearly crapped himself and while I was waiting at lights tried to open the door to make a dash for it. She started laughing and hurling insults at him because of his lack of adventure but he started panicking and just said "please let me out mate" to me. I took my foot of the brake and the doors unlocked and he was off running like a greyhound after the hare. She couldn't stop laughing and in retrospect she was probably laughing at all men including the one she was about to take for a complete mug. As we arrived at her address the theatrics began. "Some bastard's knicked my wallet" I just sat there thinking here we go again. "look, I'm a payer I am, I always pay my way but someone’s definitely knicked my money" I asked what was she going to do about it and she said she could ring me later and arrange payment. We were outside a place where there was a party going in full swing and there were lots of undesirables looking over at the cab and getting a bit too close for comfort so I decided that living to fight another day would be better than nothing so I gave her my mobile number and she got out. I went home and straight to bed and when I woke there was a missed call from a strange number so perhaps she did try and ring but as far as I was concerned I would never see that £18 again.

On a recent visit to the cab garage I had to part with five weeks rent, that’s a thousand hard earned quid. The owner was at the helm as his manager, the genial Irishman, was away somewhere receiving treatment for something or other. Once the money was paid the owner told me I was still four weeks in arrears. He came to that conclusion just by matching the payments I’d made with the payment book. I told him that the manager always has the dates written down wrong in the book as I’ve pointed out to him on lots of occasions and that in fact I was up to date. I have all the receipts of my payments at home and he asked me to bring them in next time I come. He also gave me a parking ticket notification and it was dated January the 6th. I could just imagine it lying buried under the managers untidy desk for weeks and then suddenly being discovered and put aside to give me after the two-week period where you can pay only £60 has elapsed. As the manager wasn’t there to explain we decided to wait until he returns but there’s no way I’m paying for someone else’s mistake. The actual offence is debatable too as the only thing I could think of was that I was photographed dropping someone off in a bus lane on Newington Green Road which isn’t an offence, and some jobsworth camera controller has decided to do me for it. The case continues.

I’m off out now to hand over another £400 to my mother in law (hi Jan!!) to pay for my daughter’s forthcoming annual trip to see her mother in San Diego.

I should be posting something later on this week so check back in three or four days.
Be Lucky out there.
LC

Musings

2008-06-07T19:39:00.000+01:00

I suppose I better post something as I’ll start to lose my audience. These are random musings from my notes.

I only had one fruitcake in the cab over the last few days. She was a young black girl who went from Victoria Station to The Angel Islington. She was talking on her phone and then started shouting out at the top of her voice. Chris was on the phone to me at the time and he said “What the f*** was that?” I turned round and asked if she was OK and she said in a near-normal voice “yes thanks, how long till we get there?” I said about 15 minutes and she shouted out to me “well put your bloody foot down mate, I’m in a hurry here” All the way there she was saying stuff like “Can’t you go faster?” or “Overtake that car” or “That other taxi is going faster, can’t you keep up with him?”. I never answered her once as I don’t think she was looking for an answer as in my mind I think she was a bit of a nutter, someone who had issues. The only concern I had was if I was going to get paid. The fare was £20.40 and when we arrived she gave me a £20 note and a £2 coin and said in a near-normal voice “Thank you driver, there’s a little extra for you for getting me here so quickly”. The rest of the shift went OK and I did some nice jobs. The last one was a fellow Leeds United supporter who I took to Kew Gardens and we were talking football the whole way there. He gave me a £5 tip on top of the already expensive fare. There are all-sorts of people out there and in this job they’ll all pass through the doors of my taxi at some point or other.

Work last Thursday was better than the last few days. I started at about 7.30 and was done by 2am. Best job of the night was from town up to High Barnet. On the way back in from Barnet a girl flagged me down at Golders Green and wanted to go back out to Edgware. She wanted a price and I told her it would go about £20 to £25 on the meter. It went £24.60 and she waited for the 40p change from £25. I don’t expect tips ever and am never amazed at when people don’t give them. Australians and Spanish people are notorious in the cab trade for not tipping. On the flip-side of that some people go way over the top sometimes. I once picked a guy up and dropped him a short distance. The fare was about £3.60 and he gave me a £20 note. I said I was struggling for change and he told me to keep it and walked off. A few of them a night would be fantastic but they do come around every so often.

The Friday night shift was extremely busy, as one would expect. I met up with Chris at the Astral in Horseferry Road (Tony’s place) and I had a nice tuna and sweetcorn baguette with a custard tart and a latte. We sat outside a pub round the corner where in about an hour we could see all the punters slowly deteriorating through drink. They seemed to be having fun though and it made me think of how I seem to spend my life sat in the cab watching other people have fun. It’s about time I had a little bit of fun myself.

There was a lot of police activity around Baker Street Station last Saturday. From midnight all alcohol was banned on public transport and a party on the Circle Line was organised by the public in one final act of defiance. There was a lot of trouble but I managed to avoid it. Chris kept ringing me as he was in the area. We stopped for a coffee in Berners Street at around 9.30 and from about 10 until I finished it was non-stop work going here, there and everywhere. The last job ended up in Dulwich Village and the man was well drunk and had a really peculiar smell, which filled the cab. I had to drive with the window open and kept sticking my head out to get lungfulls of fresh air as I thought I was going to vomit. I rang Chris and told him and he said "just pull over and say "Oi mate, get out of my cab will you, you stink and I can't stand it" that's something he would say but I am more diplomatic and just carried on. By the time we got to Dulwich the man had passed out and I think I had turned green and I had to shout at the top of my voice three or four times to wake him. He paid me OK and on the way back in I opened all the windows in case I got another job.

Last Tuesday I ended up ranking after each job and waiting for long spells before getting my next job and then the job would sometimes only go a short distance and yield a couple of quid. The last time I ranked was the longest as I made the fatal mistake of getting myself boxed in at Paddington. I waited for almost a whole hour I did eventually get a job at around 1.15am and it took me over to Bethnal Green in the east end. The roads were deserted at that time and I was there in no time. I came back through the City and had a look on the Liverpool Street Station rank but it was also full of hopefull cabs waiting for the next Stanstead train.

I had a bit of a disagreement with a big African man at Victoria. I was on a feeder rank, not the main one, and he walked over and asked me how much it would be to take him to Lewisham. I hate going to places like that as it's such a dump. I said "about £30" and he said "ok can you do it for a fixed price of £20" and I replied "absolutely not" so he walked away and crossed the road and started getting some enormous suitcases out of a car. He crossed back over and approached me again and said "OK we go to Lewisham for £30". The price I suggested was only an estimate and I told him that the fare would be whatever the meter showed at the end of the journey. He started to argue that we had made a deal and I had said £30. I said we hadn't made a deal and that the final price would be whatever the meter showed. All this exchange of words was done in a heated manner with lots of arm waving and pointing. At the end of it all I told him that I wouldn't be moving from where I was unless he handed over at least £35 upfront. He didn't agree he should do that so we had another heated exchange and finally I told him to take another cab. The line up ahead of me had moved on so I drove forward leaving him to have the same argument with the cab behind me. I'll take anybody anywhere they want to go but I have to be sure they have the means of paying. The days of me just taking anybody anywhere without verification of funds are long gone.

Monday was a very busy shift as there were some awards on at a hotel in Vauxhall and there were quite a few after parties scattered around making it pleasantly busy for a Monday. I was on the road by 7pm and got my first job out on Maida Vale almost straight away. The second job was a strange one. A lady from Victoria to round the back of Harrods. On the way there she starts telling me about how her Mercedes had just been stolen and that she never had insurance for it. She wanted to know if she took out a policy straightaway would she be able to make a claim. How the heck should I know and why didn’t she have insurance in the first place. By the way she talked she had all the qualities of a loser and I got a feeling the ride wouldn’t be straightforward. When we arrived she started fumbling about for money and after only a few seconds of looking she declared that she’d lost a tenner she had in her pocket. She asked for my number and said she was only going to be in this place for an hour or so and that she would have money by then (call girl?) so I could run her back to Victoria. I thought to myself that it was only a fiver so if she never rang me then it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She never did ring me so I was a fiver down after only my second job. The evening could only get better. I did a few more jobs then stopped for a bite to eat at another well-known cabbie haunt, The Piccolo in Mayfair. That was where Tony started out and then left to open The Astral. So, due a bit of luck, I ranked on the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane and got a job out to The Holiday Inn Ariel by Heathrow Airport which paid £52 and made the night a bit easier.
The cab rent is due Monday and my brake pads need doing as they’re almost down to the metal when they were last checked. That’s all folks.

Not A Happy Bunny

2008-05-26T01:23:00.000+01:00

(Only True Leeds Fans Will Understand The Next Few Lines)
It was the first leg against Carlisle all over again. Freedman and Beckford were invisible. All those thousands of Leeds fans disappointed, no, gutted, distraught, crestfallen and probably even suicidal. That’s just Leeds United Football Club for you. The misery is unbearable and I don’t want to think about them any more until next season, it’s just too harrowing.

On a brighter note I almost accepted a pair of soiled panties as part payment for the fare tonight but then decided I needed the money more. I picked up a couple of thirty something women. Both had a skinful and they started trying it on with me from the word go. “would you do me?” said one of them in a broad Glasgow accent. If I’d been standing in a bar somewhere then maybe, no, definitely. But whilst at work and weary of these types of proposals I let her down gently by saying “my girlfriend wouldn’t like it”. They kept on and on and I got into the swing (once I’d got over my initial fright, shock, fear of fresh women) and the banter was fierce but it was never, ever gonna be more than that. When we arrived in Chiswick (yes even posh Chiswick has loose women residing there) the fare was £18 and the other one said “let’s call it a tenner and you can have the knickers I’ve got on” and started to lift her skirt up to remove them. I said “no thanks luv, I’d rather the money if you don’t mind” Then she said “why not, they’re clean” and I said “look, a jokes a joke but just pay me what’s on the meter OK?” They weren’t too pleased about being rejected and paid the fare and muttered some name under their breath. This sort of thing happens from time to time but to be honest I’d rather just have a boring shift.

Just paid my cab Friday. £800. That was painful. I also had the Xeta equipment removed as I wasn’t doing it justice and also the rent has just gone up to £19 per week. So it’s just me and the streets again until I feel the need to be part of a circuit again.
That’s all I can muster for now folks. More eventually………………..LC

Marching On Together?

2008-05-13T07:59:00.003+01:00

Leeds United, my beloved football team, played the first leg of the play-offs last night and I stayed in to watch it. Apart from a few memorable moments in all the years of supporting them, it’s mainly just been misery and despair. We lost the home leg 2-1 and now need to beat Carlisle at their place on Thursday night. Glutton for punishment that I am, I will be staying in to watch that too. Because of the football I never played darts tonight. We needed to win our last game of the season to win the league. The Captain was texting me to try and get me to come there instead of watching the game but it was no contest. My two boys went as usual and managed to easily secure a 12-2 victory thus winning us the league and promotion to the first division. Leeds should take a leaf out of our book.

Since I posted last Wednesday I have carried working on relentlessly.
I met up with Chris the next day for a Cornish pasty and a coffee at Marylebone Station. He’d also bought me a blood pressure monitor and we sat in the back of my cab taking our blood pressure in turn. Mine was 144 over 92 and anyone who knows about blood pressure will know that’s a pretty high reading. I had to see the doc the next day and she put me on some different meds to try and bring it down. I always have a chuckle to myself when I’m in with her because you get no sympathy whatsoever from her. In fact she is totally devoid of any emotions and just wants you out of there asap.

I’m still getting attacked by anonymous commenters for the infamous “20p” incident in Old Church Street. Guys, or Gals for that matter, there’s no need to be so nasty. When I read those posts again they seem fair to me. But I suppose it takes all sorts to make a world doesn’t it?

The other night I was driving back towards town after a fare to Camberwell when a guy flagged me on the Vauxhall one-way. He had a bit of paper in his hand, which always gets me excited. He said he was completely lost and wanted a cab ride out to Weybridge.

Me: You know that’s a £70 to £80 fare mate?
Him: What?? It’s not far from here is it?
Me: Yeh it’s about £70 to £80 from here.
Him: Well I’ve got no other option at this time so let’s go for it.
Me: No problem mate that’ll be £80 up front and you’ll get any change that’s due.
Him: We’ll find a cash point when we get down there.
Me: There’s one just round the corner, I’ll take you there instead shall I?
Him: Whatever!

I’d anticipated a spot of bother but as it turned out he got the money and paid me upfront. I got the postcode off him and once in the vicinity I asked what we were looking for.

Him: The Moreland Lodge Hotel 46 Portsmouth Road KT11 1BW

was how he told me the address.
There wasn’t a hotel with that name at the address it was the Cobham Lodge Hotel, obviously a name-change had occurred at some recent point.

Me: Are you sure it hasn’t changed its name?
Him: No, mine charges £55 per night that one (the sign outside said) charges £77.

I drove up and down Portsmouth Road twice before I decided the Moreland Lodge never existed anymore. He had the phone number on the piece of paper, which I rang from my phone. “Hello, Cobham Lodge Hotel, may I help you?” Came the reply. Nuff said. £75 and a receipt and I’m homeward bound once again.

Friday and Saturday night were typical. Lots of people going out to clubs and bars. Lots of drunk people coming out of clubs and bars.
The Elton John song “Saturday Nights Alright For Fighting” sprung to mind as I pulled up in the traffic in Fulham Broadway at the same moment that a crowd of young men decided to start a mass brawl. I felt a bit too close for comfort as these guys were laying into each other with venom. One poor bloke was getting pummelled by two men. He received a punch in the face, which knocked him backwards, cracking his head on the pavement. As his head hit another guy booted him full in the face. I must admit it was quite sickening. My punter, who I was driving to Munster Road, was shitting himself and started panicking. A couple of those plastic-coppers came running towards the fracas and to give them due respect they steamed straight in and started separating everyone. Within seconds three police cars arrived from different directions with sirens wailing and the group of lads started dispersing in all directions. With the action at an end cars that had slowed to observe moved off and I was able to continue my journey to Munster Road.

As I said earlier, tonight’s shift was short on account of me having stayed in to watch the football. I got out at 10pm then had to return home as my daughter had no keys to get in. I still managed a respectable nights takings and finished the shift off with an Underground job from Holland Park Station to Greenford. It was only one pickup and drop and I was chatting to the guy about his job and he said he was waiting to be accepted as a train driver where he will earn 41k instead of the 22k he was presently earning to collect tickets, sweep the platforms and take loads of abuse from the general public.

Should be back to normal tonight.

Be Lucky.

"Running To Stand Still"

2008-05-07T15:58:00.001+01:00

So we have a new Mayor now and we’re all waiting to see how his policies may affect us in either a good or bad way. I voted for him as I’ve always voted for the Conservatives for good or bad and one policy I will be looking forward to seeing the Mayor implement is ridding the streets of the Bendy Bus. You only have to get stuck behind a couple of them in Oxford Street to know they’ve always been a bad idea on our narrow streets.

One commenter on the last post said, and I quote “you need to stop being so lazy, who goes to work and has a break straight away?” Now rather than attack him back I should probably take a few moments to explain my situation for anyone remotely interested. I live with my three kids. For reasons best known to me I get very little help in running this home so it is inevitably down to me to do everything. I cook, I clean, I vacuum, I take the rubbish out, I do the laundry, I do the shopping and basically do everything that needs doing. So most days I’ve already done a full days work before I have to go and do my shift in the cab. The reason I may go straight to the Royal Oak Taxi Centre is because I fancy something different from what my kids have had and they are geared up to provide me with that something. Also, if it’s already after 8pm then that is a good time to eat as the work dies down till 10pm. This job is not like a 9 to 5 job where you do 4 hours then have a meal break; it’s unique so that you can work when it’s busy and take a break during the quiet spells. Me, lazy? I don’t have the time to be lazy.

Leading on from above, I haven’t had a day off now for over two weeks. The cab has been paid along with various other monthly bills and a saying I find myself quoting to people when asked how I am or how work is is that “I’m running to stand still” (which also happens to be the title of one of my favourite U2 songs). London is still recovering from the Easter break, which seemed to have gone on for much longer than other years.

Since I resumed the medication for my various ailments there have been a couple of times when I’ve had to rush home as one of the side effects has kicked in causing me to “run for the bog” Not nice when you’re on the other side of town and can only use your own toilet. Still, it seems to have settled down now and isn’t as much of a concern.

Work has been pretty uneventful and looking through my notes reveals only a few talking points. Last Wednesday I took a guy from Oxford Street down to Clapham. He paid me off and I drove all the way to Victoria before getting my next ride. There was a problem with the trains and an old fella asked me how much to Gatwick Airport. I quoted him £90 and he nearly had a heart attack probably expecting to hear about £30. “Don’t act so surprised mate” I said to him “it’s a thirty-mile journey and it’s around £3 a mile” He thought about it for a moment then said “I’ll do it for eighty” like it was his decision. I then thought about it, weighed up my options, which weren’t that good and agreed. We chatted most of the way until I hit the M23 and arrived at a deserted North Terminal at around 2am. He handed over the agreed £80 and got out of the cab. I looked on the back seat and there was a pretty large bag sitting there. “Oi mate!!” I called out to him as he was walking away. “You’ve left a bag on the seat” “It was there when I got in” he replied. So he’d sat chatting to me all the way from Victoria with someone else’s bag sitting on the seat next to him. “I thought it was yours” he added. Why the hell would it be mine? It’s a pity the guy I’d picked up when Chris left his moneybag in the cab wasn’t as honest. I pulled over a few yards away and inspected the contents of the bag and found, amongst various items, a laptop. It looked like a nice one too. My son told me it was Israeli, I forget the name but it began with Lan… or something similar. Anyway, there were lots of forms of ID in the bag and I rang the guy the next day. I returned it to him at his place of work in the Regent’s Park area and he gave me a £40 reward, which exceeded my expectations.

Thursday the 1st of May was Election Day and I waited outside a polling station in Battersea Park while my passenger voted. He was talking to someone in the street and I felt I knew this person and I was wracking my brains to know where from. It eventually dawned on me who this person was. When my passenger returned I asked if he knew the person. I then asked if he was a barrister. He said yes to both questions and I knew it was the defence barrister from my two-week jury service stint. He’d worn a wig and gown in court so looked completely different in his tennis attire. My passenger asked if he was any good and I told him that we’d acquitted the defendant so he must have been.

That same shift I did two nice jobs out into the sticks. The first one was from Berkeley Square out to Rickmansworth. I came back in from there to do a few more jobs before ranking on the Hilton in Park Lane. Two blokes came out and asked for Potters Bar. I drove through Potters Bar and eventually dropped them in a place called Cuffley and went home from there.

Monday was Mayday Bank Holiday and the meter was on rate 3 all day. I started at 7pm and worked almost non-stop until 2am. I finished up with my first London Underground account job in three weeks, Waterloo to Rayners Lane.

Before I went to work yesterday I saw on the news that there was an incident in Kings Road, Chelsea and never thought anymore about it. Once at work a few jobs took me down to that area and there were police sirens and helicopters and all sorts of things going on. It turns out that there was an armed siege going on at a house in Markham Square which resulted in the shooting and killing of a gunman

The rest of the shift was pretty uneventful and I ended it with another Underground job from Morden Station in south west London to Mornington Crescent.
More soon.

Unlucky Chris

2008-04-22T17:03:00.011+01:00

Seeing as my mate Chris aka Titanic can’t be bothered to blog at the moment I asked his permission to let you all know what’s been happening in his working life of late.

He generally works the same hours as me and picks up the same variety of nice people, arseholes and scumbags. We’ll stop for a coffee and a bite to eat on most nights depending on where we are at any given time.

On the Saturday just gone we stopped for a coffee and a slice of cake at the Subway on Tottenham Court Road. We sat outside a busy pub where there was plenty to see and talk about and after about half an hour we went back to work. I trapped almost immediately, a job down to Battersea. He trapped a nice ride down to Hammersmith. After 30 minutes and a few jobs later my phone rang and a frantic Chris asked me if I’d found his moneybag, which he’d left on the back seat of my cab containing his nights takings. I wasn’t carrying anybody at that moment so I was able to pull over and investigate further. The bag wasn’t there. “It’s long gone mate” was how I broke the news to him. There was nothing I could do but to listen to the emissions of pain and rage coming from my phone as Chris vented his anger and frustration finally terminating the call to decide his next step. The guy I had picked up after our coffee break must’ve found it and thought it was his lucky night and decided to keep it. The road he had initially given as his destination, Inworth Street (no number otherwise I would have printed that too you robbing bastard) was changed to Battersea Park Road where he got out so as not to lead me to his front door. The bag also contained Chris’s Taxi License and would need reporting as stolen at a suitable Police station. I gave Chris all the information mentioned above and after dropping a job in the vicinity he parked up and went looking through a few bins just in case the guy had thrown the bag away after removing the cash (£150). He’s clinging to a last thread of hope that the guy will have an attack of conscience and at least send him the license back in the post but we’ve both decided not to hold our breaths.

As if that misfortune wasn’t enough the following day his cab broke down on the M1.
He was driving along and the cab started shuddering and vibrating. He pulled well over to the left and rang the breakdown and after 40 minutes they came and towed him to his garage. It turned out to be a collapsed wheel bearing which has now been repaired. His cab is now off the road as it’s due for its annual overhaul so he’s using his brother’s cab for the next week.

Chris's cab on the breakdown wagon

Since my last post I have been grafting away taking two steps forward and three steps back and getting nowhere fast. Three weeks behind with the you-know-what but that should be sorted by Wednesday.

I’m flicking through my notes to see what, if anything of interest, I can tell you.

8.4.08. I picked up the singer, Bjork, for the second time. I took her and a friend to the Odeon in Camden Town.

That same shift I also picked up a fare from Victoria Station and took him to the east side of London Fields. This is a park in Hackney and at 2.30am in the morning looks and feels a completely different place than by day. As we arrived at a deserted location in Martello Street there were a few undesirables hanging about and I suggested I drop my fare a bit further down the street but he seemed to know the area and that it would be OK so he got out there and I drove away. I hate that area of town.

9.4.08. I received a £120 fine in the post for being caught in the Kidbroke Park bus lane at 1.30 in the morning a few months earlier. Does anyone know if a bus lane fine starts at £120 or should it start at £60? The garage must’ve forwarded my name and I’m wondering if they overlooked it as the desk in the office is always in a mess. I couldn’t ring and ask as I owed them the rent. That always works against me and one day I’m gonna put it right. Yeah right!!

Bang to rights

Thursday 10.4.08. Having just been to the bank in St John’s Wood, I was driving back home, half asleep, when I drove into the side of a BMW on the famous Abbey Road Zebra Crossing. We pulled ahead of the crossing and the two occupants jumped out to inspect the damage, which luckily for me, turned out to be a few minor scuffs on the rear bumper. They decided it wasn’t worth pursuing and left it at that.

Sunday 13.4.08. Started at 6.30pm and after 5 jobs decided to stop for dinner. I rang my favourite Chinese Take-away in Battersea Park Road and ordered my usual Satay Chicken and rice but also asked them to add a handful of cashews to it. When I arrived at the shop the chef started arguing with the order-taker in Chinese waving his hands in my direction. She (the order-taker) gave as good as she got and finally turned to me and asked me to confirm that I’d asked for the extra cashews to be added. I’ve been having the same dish for the last few years and the chef seemed to not be able to accept that I could change the order to add an extra handful of cashew nuts. He needed to hear me confirm it and still didn’t feel it was right but reluctantly fried off a handful of cashews and added them to the already-cooked Satay chicken. I’ve been back a few times since and he is now OK with it, or at least I hope so and he’s not adding an ingredient or two of his own, if you get my drift.

Tuesday 15.4.08. There is a famous pub in Mayfair called “I am the only running footman”. Weird name for a pub but that’s the name it’s gone by since I’ve been a cab driver for 18 years and was probably it’s name for a long time before that too. It’s on the Corner of Charles Street and Hays Mews. I must have passed it a few thousand times but never actually got asked for it by name. Today a lady asked for it by name and I was mentally aware that it was the first time ever I’d been asked for it. I just thought I’d share that one with you all.

Later on in this same shift the doorman of the Holiday Inn Regents Park flagged me. He was out in Great Portland Street looking for two cabs and I was the second one. I put my meter on and drove round to the hotel to wait for the passengers. The first cab got his passengers and drove off. I sat there until I had £10 on the meter. There was no one in sight, even the doorman had disappeared. I got out and went in search. There were two different employees behind the counter in reception but all I got from them was “it’s nothing to do with us”. As stated in another post this sort of thing happens occasionally and different cabbies handle it in different ways. As there was no one to shout at I had to drive away empty-handed with £12 on the meter making a mental note not to be “had-over” ever again.

Wednesday 16.4.08. Only did half a shift as that tired feeling washed over me after 8 jobs. I bought a can of Red Bull as it is supposed to “give you wings” but after half an hour I was worse than ever and flew home.

Being a diabetic, I had my annual eye screening this week and was told that my blood pressure was too high. Since seeing my doctor I have had an ECG and a blood test and am awaiting the results which I should get this coming Friday.

I would describe myself as normal looking. Not rugged or tough-looking but not the opposite either. If someone like me flagged my cab down I would stop for them, especially if they had five carrier bags of shopping from Sainsbury’s. Yet this old codger was driving along Kilburn High Road at a snails pace, with his “Hire” light on, looked me in the eye and then roared off. What’s all that about? Karma for all the people I’ve done similar to? Maybe his gut instinct told him I might be trouble, who knows? I waited for another cab to come by but none did so I had to walk the half mile home with these five loaded carrier bags of shopping cutting into my hands.

Sunday 20.4.08. I did a job from Paddington Station to Huntsworth Mews. I ask fellow cabbies to run it in their head. Right out of the station, round into Sussex Gardens, straight through to Marylebone Road, left into Gloucester Place set down on the left. Simple. Yet the passenger starts accusing me of ripping him off, saying it was £1.60 more than the last time. As he had already handed me a £20 note and was waiting for the change, I decided that I couldn’t be arsed to explain why and decided tell him that he was talking out of his arse and that he was talking crap. He asked why he would need to talk crap and talk out of his arse and I told him he must’ve had a bad day and was looking for an argument. We had a bit of an exchange of ideas by which time I’d given him his change and told him to “jog on”. He’d probably previously done the journey by day on rate 1.

Yesterday, Monday, started off with a trip to the Public Carriage Office to renew my Taxi Drivers Licence or Bill as we call it, for the seventh time in 18 years. £285 is what I had to pay and will now have to drive around with a cover note until the new one is issued. The last time it took almost 6 months, as there were problems with the CRB check.

From the PCO I had to drive in search of the new Super Mario game for the Wii game system. My son, Michael, was with me and we drove all over the place until finally obtaining a copy at John Lewis’s in Oxford Street.

I started my shift with a meal at the Royal Oak. Chris was also there and we never drove over to Paddington until 9pm, which is pretty late if you’re hoping for a decent night. Needless to say I struggled to earn £140 after some really desperate jobs and went home deflated at 2am.

It’s now 5pm on Tuesday and I plan to be out much earlier tonight, as I must get my cab paid tomorrow.

Catch you later.

Continuing Women Problems

2008-04-08T12:16:00.003+01:00

I don’t know if it’s just me but I seem to have been experiencing more job related hassles than I’d care to wish on anyone. Since the last post I’ve had another bad credit card, my iPaq died on me and I also had a slagging match with another woman. Welcome to my world.

My immediate concern is to pay three weeks cab rent (yes, that old chestnut rears it’s head again) by tomorrow before it becomes four weeks on Monday. The letter all drivers at the garage we’re given a few weeks ago obviously hasn’t had the desired effect as we’re all still paying the rents as late as ever. I was at one particular garage in the 90’s where if you hadn’t paid by the due day, Monday, the owner would ridicule you in front of whoever was in the office at the time. This gave you two options. You either ridiculed him back and told him where he could shove his cab or you paid on time. It worked for me for a time but I eventually left there and went to my present garage where my piss-taking, unfortunately, knows no bounds.

The credit card problem followed the night after the one I had in my last post. This one was much shorter but the same problem arose where the PDA returned a rejection message to which I assumed (what do they say about assumption?) that the problem was at Xeta HQ. I let her walk away with 7.80 on the “hickory” and after speaking with someone at Xeta realised I wasn’t getting my money for this job. That’s definitely the last one I do for a while. I’ve refused three or four since.

My iPaq 5550, which operates my satnav and my AtoZ mapping software let me down this week. For those of you familiar with PDA’s, the screen, as it gets older, needs re-aligning with the tool provided. I’d already re-aligned the screen a few times in the last few months so it was obviously on its way out. It finally refused to realign so I had no option but to buy a new one off ebay. This arrived a few days ago and I’m back up and running now.

The Slagging Match
I was sitting on South Kensington rank messing about with the faulty PDA. I looked up and the front cab drove off empty leaving me with a drunk mess of a lady. She could barely speak she was that drunk. I’m not going to drag this one out but after three different destinations we ended up in Barnes. The meter showed £20.20. She only had £10. OK so we’ll drive to the nearest cashpoint and get the rest methinks. That’s all the money she had and wasn’t able to get anymore from anywhere. She had this like-it-or-lump-it attitude that finally started me off. Before I did I rang my daughter and told her what was about to happen. She put her phone on loudspeaker which added another half a dozen listeners as there was a gathering at my house for the recent Wrestlemania live screening.

Me: So, you haven’t got any money?
Her: Nope
Me: You’re rat-arsed right?
Her: Yep, I’m rat-arsed.
Me: So you can spend all your money on drink but when it comes to paying the cab driver it’s tough shit then is it?
Her: (silent)
Me: People like you make me sick. I’ve got kids to feed and bills to pay…
At this point she switched to hysterical mode and started screaming and ranting that she also had kids and that she worked 12 hours a day for little money blah blah blah.

Me: So why are you getting a cab if you can’t pay? I’m driving you to the police station.
More screams and hysterics and her mobile phone came flying through the partition.
Her: Take my fucking phone I don’t want it.
Me: I don’t fucking want it either (throwing it back at her).

We were both ranting at the top of our voices and the audience back at home were laughing their heads off. I knew I wasn’t going to get any more money out of her so told her to just get out. She remained sat there still ranting. Barnes is an extremely posh area and our shouts and screams were now beginning to alert the locals. Heads were appearing at windows and curtains were twitching. I got out and walked round to the kerb side, opened the door and told her to hop-it. As she got out she squared up to me. She must’ve weighed all of 7 stones, half my weight and only came up to my chin. I said something like “what, d’you think I’m gonna fight with you? Get yer arse home you stupid bitch” and got back in the cab and drove off. Again, more grief from yet another woman. Why is it only the women?

I finally made it to the cab garage on Friday. Again, nothing was said but it’s just as well I went, as I had to collect an appointment card for the annual tariff increase on Sunday. A tariff increase, to me, only means earning what I need that little bit quicker and getting back home to my creature comforts. I noticed the difference on the Sunday night when I did a run from Waterloo Station to Shepherds Bush. There was not a drop of traffic on the roads and the meter went up to £25.40, an increase of about 2 to 3 pounds.

I’ve just dropped my son off at college and have taken my cab through the wash at the garage in Willesden Lane. It’s gleaming at the moment, something it hasn’t been for a few weeks. All ready for tonights shift.
Check back soon

Who's Jonny?

2008-03-28T18:18:00.014Z

Getting ready to blog

I have another cabbie friend called Chris who rang me the other morning about a problem he was having with his PDA. It had lost its charge after three days without use and had wiped off all his maps and satellite navigation software. I have had lots of experience re-installing maps and software to my own and two other friends’ PDA’s so it only took me minutes to do Chris’s. Although us cabbies have “The Knowledge” it still feels like your left nut is missing when the PDA’s cack-out for whatever reason.

Later that night I did an Underground job on Xeta, which ended up at Canning Town via North Greenwich from Waterloo. From the final drop-off I had to drive to Tottenham to pick up my daughter and the satnav guided me through Twelvetrees Crescent for the first time ever. 50% of the time you can expect it to take you the wrong way and as I passed a sign saying “private estate” I thought “Here we go again”. Even the map shows the road is closed off but as I drove from one end to the other and found myself entering the A12 I was quite impressed. Do any East London drivers know if you can use this route during the day?

Wednesday saw me start at 4pm, the earliest I have started for a while. I had to go to the bank in St John’s Wood first and then got my first job from there. An old boiler, is how I could best describe her. She was 70-odd with rotten teeth, a Worzle Gummidge hairdo and a musky essence-of-piss about her. From the word go she never stopped telling me her life story, mainly the various ailments and medications she was on. She started coughing uncontrollably and announced she had some sort of virus to which I expressed my concern about whether it was contagious. I had to endure that all the way to Victoria where she then paid the entire fare (£15) in £ coins which I was in need of so was pleased.

As she got out two more fares were waiting to get in and wanted to go back into the thick of it to the Holborn area. As they got out to pay the fare (£10.60) one of the two women gave me a tenner and walked away. I was going to forget about the sixty pennies when she turned round and hurried back saying “Oh my God, I’ve got to give you more money. I’m a dickhead” she looked anything but a dickhead to me but I accepted the £2 coin she offered me and bade her farewell. For anyone comparing what happened a few posts ago I would say that the circumstances were different.

Being on this side of town and not having had anything to eat or drink since getting up, I drove up to Euston to seek out the Prêt a Manger there. It was pretty late in the afternoon so they never had a large selection of sandwiches. I sat outside the Novotel eating my food and watching everyone hurry about their business.

There was to be a big evening of International football this evening so it was inevitable that I would at some point get a job to the 60,000 seater Emirates Statdium, home of Arsenal Football Club who were hosting a friendly game between Brazil and Sweden. The Stadium, as it turned out, was filled to capacity so there was quite a bit of work there for a few hours after the game.

I stopped for a burger with Chris at Marylebone Station and, unable to get our favourite dessert of lemon cheesecake, we had to settle for a lemon soufflé type of dessert, which came in little ceramic pots that probably cost more than the contents. I meant to keep the pots as they make good ashtrays but inadvertently threw them out yesterday.

The last job for Wednesday took me from Upper Thames Street in The City up to Bowes Park. The extremely drunk man was trying to explain where he wanted but with simply mentioning the name of the area and his road I had enough to get him home. He was trying to talk to me about how he was in trouble with his girlfriend but as I couldn’t understand his slurry words I ignored him and he dozed off. He woke as I was crossing Seven Sisters road at Green Lanes and Manor House and started shouting at me to turn left. He thought he was further ahead than we were and it took a lot of explaining to convince him otherwise.

Last night’s shift was surreal. I actually felt like a cabby who could go anywhere, work any part of town and be just at home in un-charted waters.

Ist job was from Paddington to Dalston. Back through The City and a shortish one from Moorgate to Ensign Street. “Do you know Ensign Street?” asked the well dressed lady. In 1981 I chose to end my career in the Merchant Navy by handing in my naval documents at the office, which was at that time, in Ensign Street. I always regretted that decision and driving along Ensign Street always brings up that sour memory.

“Wilds Rents please driver” said the next passenger as she got in at London Bridge Station.

“Where the hell, no, what the hell is Wild’s Rents” I thought to myself. Don’t we have some peculiar street names here? I knew of a Perkins Rents near Victoria so it had to be a street name. Luckily there was a bit of traffic, which enabled me to check the AtoZ. It was only a few streets away and I was there in minutes and wondered if it would take another 18 years before I was asked to go there again.

Back on the rank at Victoria and in gets a nice lady. “Waterloo please. Oh look someone’s left their bag in the back” She passed the bag through the window and it looked valuable, possibly a laptop. When she got out at Waterloo I pulled over to inspect the contents of the bag to find a Dell Latitude laptop with all the accessories. There was also a business card with the possible name of the owner. I never rang the number until this morning and the laptop owner was pleasantly surprised. He thought he’d seen the last of it. He arranged a courier to collect it and promised me he would send me a “little something” for my trouble. Watch this space.

The circuit I do work for, Xeta, accept credit cards. So I accepted a street hiring to London Bridge, Westcombe Park and finally dropping off in Sidcup, Kent. The passenger that got out at Westcombe Park was the credit card holder and wanted to finalise the transaction there. The way Xeta works is that you can only process the card at the end of the trip. So, thinking all would be OK as the man looked respectable enough, I just took down all the relevant numbers and said I would do it at the journeys end. We arrived at the address in Sidcup and I drove away and pulled over down the street to complete the transaction. I tried three times to process the card and each time it was declined. £51.80 was a lot of money. I rang Chris up to tell him the story and I think his opinion of me dipped for a few seconds as he wondered how with all my years of experience I could allow myself to get caught out like that. As it turned out there was a problem at Xeta HQ and after speaking to a very helpful guy on the phone my problem was resolved but I learned a valuable lesson yesterday and that was to keep contact with the last man out of the cab until the transaction is finalised.

Heading back into town on the A2 I saw the columns of the O2 Dome all lit up. I thought there might be a concert on so decided to drive over there. The taxi rank next to North Greenwich Station had 8 cabs on it and I thought “What the heck, I’ll give it a go”. After about a ten-minute wait my passenger approached the cab. You try and mentally pick their destination but very seldom get it right. My hopes of a ride into town were dashed as she uttered the word “Kidbroke” I recently read somewhere on another blog that the local cab drivers frown on us central London drivers stealing their work and thought to myself if this is “their work” then they can keep it and after dropping at Kidbroke drove through the Blackwall Tunnel and up to Canary Wharf.

All the ranks were full but I trapped a pair of men between ranks. They wanted somewhere to get some food. “What about McDonalds” I suggested. “Not Macki D’s. Indian” said one of them. It was 12.30am and the only place they would definitely get an Indian meal was in Brick Lane. They didn’t want to go as far in as Brick Lane and had me running them around to various favourites of theirs which all turned out to be finished for the night. We eventually ended up in Brick Lane and I pocketed £20.

The work was beginning to dry up so I headed for Victoria and was in luck as a train had just arrived. A very energetic thirty-something asked to be taken to Bow. He talked non-stop about his job as a rep in Gran Canaria and how he used to be Jonny in Season 6 of Dream Team, a show I never watch but my kids do. I took his picture to show the kids and have posted it here. Anyone recognize him?

Heading home from Bow I trapped on Clerkenwell Road all the way to Sussex Gardens, ten minutes from home. It had been a good night all round and the quietness of the Easter week left firmly behind.

All Egged Out

2008-03-25T03:00:00.004Z

Easter Sunday came and went without Easter Eggs this year. About a month ago you could have bought three for three pounds but as the last few days before Easter approached the prices at my local Sainsbury’s in Ladbroke Grove rocketed to between four and five pounds per egg which saw my tighter side refuse to pay that amount. Is there no end to the greed of some of these supermarkets?

Work tonight was, in a word…..crap.
I started at 7.20pm and drove straight over to Paddington where it was in and out with the queue of people all the way back to the drop off point. My firt job took me to Ladbroke Road, not a great job but near enough to return to Paddington asap.

The next one went a little further. Through Hyde Park to Beaufort Gardens. From there it was better to try my luck at Victoria but I only made it to the Coach Station before I picked up three ladies to the Park Plaza Riverside.

I dieseled up at the BP in Vauxhall Bridge Road on my way back to Victoria and paid £1.17.9 per litre. It’s getting stupid now.

A longish wait at Victoria only yielded a short job to Huttons Hotel in Belgrave Road and I was legalled-off to the tune of £4.

Back at Victoria and a similarly longish wait saw me take a couple to the UCH (University College Hospital). The lady was in some sort of distress and spent the whole journey doubled over and wincing. I never asked. It’s not my style.

I spent this morning downloading some Spanish songs that had taken my fancy. I made a Spanish playlist for my iPod and played it the whole shift. There’s one particular song I heard on YouTube last week and that one got played the most. It was a song by Alejandro Sans called “Se le apago la luz” and from what I can gather is about someone dying after a road accident and is very sad. Nice tune tho!

I stopped for a bite to eat with Chris at Gloucester Road. Burger King followed by two maple/pecan cakes from the Tesco there hoping to break the space/time continuum, in other words to change my luck. It must’ve worked as after 10 minutes on the South Kensington Rank I got a job down to Upper Richmond Road.

There weren’t many people about as I drove through Putney and along the Kings Road so I decided to stop wasting diesel and fight another day tomorrow.

A final little £8 ride from Edgware Road to St John’s Wood concluded my shift and I went home to watch Max get buried alive in Eastenders. Best episode I’ve seen for a long time.

Take another cab

2008-03-24T01:48:00.003Z

In response to some of the negative comments about my actions relating to the woman at Old Church Street, may I say that, as in all walks of life, even us cabbies are humans. What gives people the right to mug us off time and time again? I can assure you that for every one time I may have lost my cool there are ten or twenty times when I have swallowed the situation and done nothing but smiled. Something has to give from time to time and inevitably something does.

I was on a roll with the “something giving” last night when I threw a guy and his girlfriend out of the cab at Piccadilly. It was actually my fault but I couldn’t handle the way he spoke to me so he had to go. I stopped outside the Hilton Trafalgar and was asked to take them to Stamford Hill. I should’ve driven round the one-way system and back towards the river but I had a sneaky feeling that Piccadilly Circus was going to be traffic-free as it hadn’t felt like a regular Saturday night. Big mistake. As I drove up Lower Regent Street the traffic was backed up and I just knew I should’ve gone the other way. The conversation had stopped in the back and the fella called out “can we get out of this?”

Me: Not until we get to the top
Him: What did you come this way for it has to be the stupidest way ever to come?

Hackles started rising on the back of my neck but I knew he was right; I just didn’t like hearing it.

Him: You should’ve gone along the Embankment or something.

His girlfriend seemed oblivious to the tension and I heard her say “Ooh!! I love coming this way,” The neon signs on Piccadilly Circus an obvious favourite of hers.
He then continued to show his disapproval at the route and I’d had enough. I pulled over by Lilywhites and told him to get another cab. He wasn’t going to get out at first but eventually did after calling me a few choice names. It would’ve been a stressful journey for both of us so it worked out well.

At that point my daughter rang me looking for a lift home. She was at Tinseltown, a 24-hour bar-diner next to the meat market. I used to go there for my dinner break a good few years ago but now it has sort of become trendy and is full of all sorts of undesirables.

Tonight’s shift went extremely well as I had three hours with the meter on rate 3 when it would normally be rate 2.

The first job I did from Paddington took me out to Acton and on the way back in I trapped in Wood Lane going further in to Notting Hill.
Back at Paddington it was in and out and a scruffy looking man with Burger King in his hands asked to be taken up to Spaniards. I was going to ask for twenty up front but I never. He was talking quietly on his phone and it seemed to me like he was arranging a reception committee for me as I heard him say “I’ll ring you when I’m approaching”. Most of Spaniards Road is heathland so I was wondering where we would be stopping for my impending mugging when he told me to take a right into the former site of St Columba’s Hospital which is now, and probably has been for a long time, luxury flats. All’s well that ends well and he paid me £20.

The rest of the shift went without a hitch and I was finished and indoors by midnight watching Shameless with a tray of BBQ wings and a glass of milk.

Tomorrow is a Bank Holiday here and the meter is on rate 3 all day again so it should be another good shift.

G’night all.

Happy Easter

2008-03-20T04:01:00.001Z

What does it mean when you have to force yourself to write this blog?
Maybe Roy of Irish Taxi is right when he says I should write less but more often.
Anyway seeing as I’ve managed to open up a Word document I might as well do a post as it’s been three weeks since I last did one.

I’ve been busy just working away. The cab rent, amazingly is up to date and the old finances are doing well. That’s all folks!!!!!

Wouldn’t it be great if I could just get away with a post like that?

The truth is I have been working hard….too hard. I feel drained and worn out and in need of a holiday. Roll on September.

Looking through my notes for the last three weeks there’s a few jobs that stand out for various reasons.

Thursday the 28th February I started my shift at 6.50pm and was going well until someone upset me. You might find this account trivial but it took me a while to compose myself. I stopped for a lady on the South Kensington Junction and she asked for Church Street.

Me: What Church Street? Edgware Road?
Her: No
Me: Kensington Church Street?
Her: No it’s near here
Me: Old Church Street?
Her: Yes that’s it.

Off we go for the two minute trip. I turn into Old Church Street and there are roadworks and temporary traffic lights which I stop at. There are cars behind me now and the lights are about to change. She decides she’ll get out here. I reach up and stop the meter at £4.20. She hands over four coins. I tell her it’s four twenty.

Her: It was £4 when I looked
Me: Well it’s £4.20 now and the meter is on stop.
Her: But it was £4.20

The lights have changed and the traffic behind me is getting impatient. Horns are being honked. I feel the need to put this woman in her place.

Me: It’s £4.20. That’s what the meter says and that’s what you have to pay.
Her: Well, seeing as you’re going to be like that…

And she proceeds to count out the 20p in coppers. I say nothing and accept the shrapnel. She walks away from the cab and when she got about twenty feet away I shouted out: “Oi, you can stick this lot up your arse” and threw the coppers in her direction. They landed all around her as I drove off through the lights feeling immense satisfaction. Was that trivial of me? I don’t think so.

Sunday the 2nd of March was Mothers Day here in the UK and sons and daughters across the land, including me and my brothers and sisters, visited their mothers bearing gifts of some description or other.

Wednesday the 5th of March and I dropped off at Le Meridien in Piccadilly. An old codger cabbie in an old cart of a Fairway comes to my window and asks if I have a spare bulb for his “For Hire” sign as both bulbs have blown. He’d been driving around with one bulb for a few days. Surely that would be the time to buy another bulb wouldn’t it? No, much better to ponce one off a muggy cabby like me. He asked how much knowing full well I would say “don’t worry about it” and went back to fit the freebie. I hate spongers of any type.

Thursday the 13th of March I try a new Chinese Take Away in Denbigh Street, Victoria called Yum Yum. I order a Special Fried Rice and a Sweet and Sour King Prawn. £12!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At least a fiver more than all the other Chinese’s. It didn’t taste like it was worth a fiver more so I’ll put that one down to experience and avoid it in future.

Friday the 14th of March. I have to pay my cab rent and need a few quid to make up the money so I start work at 11am. I turn into Maida Vale and am flagged almost immediately by Jude Law. He wants the Wyndham’s theatre in the West End. The traffic is bollocks and I try three or four different routes before I give in to the London traffic. Jude settles in for the journey and spends the whole time on his phone talking to various people. He talks about work, his kids, his parents. I hear him mention his ex’s name. He seems oblivious to the traffic. I hear him say he has a rehearsal at 11.30 and think to myself “you’ve got Bob Hope and no hope of getting there for that time mate.”
We arrive at the theatre exactly 45 minutes after he’d gotten in to the taxi. He needs cash and goes to the cashpoint near the theatre. The people at the bus stop see him get out and instantly recognise him. They look at me with that “do you know who that is?” look on their faces but I give nothing away. He’s just another fare paying passenger to me. When he returns from the cashpoint the meter has clicked over to exactly £20. He looks up at the meter and gives me the exact money. I thank him and drive off.

Sunday the 16th of March I start work at 5pm. A nice job from Paddington to Tredegar Sq in East London gets the ball rolling. 7 hours later I’m on £176 and looking to complete "the bottle" (£200….don’t ask). I pick a guy up from Victoria who wants to catch a train from Marylebone Station. He spends the next few minutes on the phone checking train times. By the time we arrive he’s ascertained that he’s missed his last train and asks for and estimate to Bicester near Oxford. I ask how far it could be and he says no more than sixty miles. The tariff works out to £3 per mile on rate 3 but I don’t want to scare him off and say somewhere in the region of £150. He gives me the OK and off we go. I haven’t been on a motorway with the cab since I had the gearbox seen to. At seventy miles per hour a funny smell starts filtering through the nooks and crannies of the cab. The gearbox fluid must be seeping from the seal and is burning on the exhaust. I trust the cab to last the journey. The £150 mark is reached and passed. We’re still a good few miles away. The final meter reading is £196. I apologise and tell him it’s sometimes difficult to give an exact amout. He’s not bothered and gets the money from a cashpoint in Bicester town center. He pays me the exact amount. I’m ecstatic as I have earned much more than I expected. I put Toto on the ipod which is hooked up to the stereo and drive the sixty miles back to London.

Monday the 17th of March is St. Patricks Day. There are Irishmen and women everywhere. Most of them are wearing funny hats with Guinness symbols or Shamrocks or Harps. I’m flagged down by a group of them in Piccadilly. They want to go to Slough and ask for a price. I say between seventy and eighty pounds. One of them asks me to do it for seventy and I agree. We end up at the Shamrock pub in Langley, not quite Slough, but they pay me the seventy no problem and I’m happy with that. They bid me farewell and I drive back to town.

The Easter weekend is approaching and it should be a good earner.
I must remember to buy my kids their Easter Eggs tomorrow before they sell out.
Happy Easter!!!

More Fodder

2008-02-27T08:49:00.001Z

I bet you all didn’t expect another post so soon but as I have a bit of fodder to write about it’s best I do it straight away or run the risk of forgetting it all forever.

Following on from the last post which talked about Thursday’s shift, Friday was a bit of a washout as after only 8 jobs my daughter rang me from her night out in Wembley to celebrate one of her schoolmates’ birthdays. She wanted me to collect her as she doesn’t like travelling on public transport late at night. I don’t blame her either as it’s become virtually impossible for young females to travel anywhere without being pestered by yobbish youths. It gave me the chance to catch up with stuff at home including a full XP re-install on this computer. After a few months of it running like a snail it has now speeded up to nearly normal levels.

Saturday was business as usual for me. I was rolling by 6.30pm and most of the runs were pretty short but followed one another without any down-time. It was so busy that there were very few cabs in the west-end and doormen from various hotels were having to venture further away to hail cabs for their patrons. I dropped off in Coventry Street and the doorman from the Pastoria Hotel in Leicester Square quickly secured my services ahead of other people waiting to get in. Leicester Square is closed to traffic but taxis can access it via a barrier in Panton Street. The doorman told me that they were going to dinner on a boat on the river, possibly the Hispaniola, a very expensive Spanish restaurant. I already had the meter on since Coventry Street and as I pulled up outside the hotel the doorman jumped out saying he would fetch the passengers. And there I waited, and waited, and waited. I had £7 on the meter when the doorman re-emerged looking sheepish.

Him: Sorry boss but they’ve decided to walk down to the river.
Me: For fuck sake mate I’ve just sat here for ten minutes.
Him: All I can say is sorry; it’s not my fault.
Me: So who’s gonna pay me for my time then?

He shrugged his shoulders. This sort of thing happens every so often. The passengers get tired of waiting for the cab and decide to walk there instead leaving the cabbie out of pocket. Some of the better establishments will re-imburse the driver but most of them don’t. You can only hope that the same doorman tries to hail you later on when you can get your own back at tell them to stick it. I couldn’t wait for the next time and gave him a mouthful there and then. It’s always very cathartic.

After the theatre and dinner rush had died down I went to my favourite Chinese Take Away in Battersea Park Road for my usual Satay Chicken and fried rice.
After eating, the rest of the shift was as busy as the first half and I never stopped until I hit the second quarter of the “carpet”.

Sunday was a very busy day for me. At 6.30am I was just about to hit the sack when my brother Johnny rang me to say he had broken down in our mum’s car. He was at the Texaco in Hendon. I jumped in the cab with some tools and was there in fifteen minutes. The fan belt on the Peugot 205 had come off the pulley and I couldn’t undo the nut to loosen it. As there was only one pulley and the alternator I deduced that it could be driven without the belt. I jump-started it and followed him home and told him I’d be back later with a new belt and proper tools. I managed to get about 6 hours sleep and woke suddenly remembering I had the car to fix and had to get to the car-spares shop before it closed. That went without a hitch but as he was road testing it I saw he had no brake lights. The bulbs were ok so it had to be the pedal switch. It was now 4pm and the only place that would have that part was right next to Wembley Stadium where there was a major cup-final taking place between Chelsea and Spurs. Nothing for it but to go for it. It turned out OK as the game was still on and all the fans were inside. With the car fixed I spent a few more hours at my parents house catching up with my Dad, who was 77 last week, and my brothers and sisters who were also there visiting. After all the carry on of the past 12 hours I was in no frame of mind for work but with the cab rent begging to be paid I set off for work. I only managed 90 quid before I got pissed off and went home with the intention of starting early on Monday.

The early bit never happened but I did have a good sleep and woke with a bright outlook and a positive attitude for the shift that lay ahead.
Remember what I was saying in my last post about one thing after another happening to the cab? Well, I’d managed about 4 jobs when I noticed the steering wasn’t performing as it should. I checked the belt and decided to tighten it a bit. This was at Atlantic Wharf on The Highway in East London. By the time I’d reached Tower Hill the dashboard hat lit up like a Christmas tree and the power steering was non-existent. Luckily I hadn’t picked up any passengers and all I had to do was pull in off the main road and inspect the latest problem. It proved extremely difficult to steer the cab without PAS but I managed it and found that the belt had slipped completely off the pulley and jammed under the other belt preventing the alternator from turning as well as the fan. I managed to free it and re-attach it and do another job before it came off again in Victoria Street. I managed to put it back on again, rank at Victoria, blank the beggar who was sporting yet another new coat and trainers, pick up a job to Notting Hill Gate and drive half way up Grosvenor Place before it came off yet again. How I managed to drive those two people to Notting Hill without the power steering amazed me and they were completely unaware of what was going on. This was the last time I tried to put the belt back on as the minute I started the engine after re-attatching it the belt snapped. I had a spare fan-belt but it was too big so I tried to work without the PAS and gave up after two jobs and went home.

So this morning, Tuesday, I had no option but to go to the garage owing them three weeks rent as I hadn’t been able to earn it. Before I left home for the garage I remembered my son had just been paid so I managed to borrow enough off him to make up the shortfall and felt much better about seeing the owner face to face. The mechanic got straight to work and was done in about 15 minutes. I asked him to put some spares in the boot so that I wouldn’t have any more problems. While he was doing all the repairs I sat in the office with the owner and the manager and parted company with the three weeks rent. I made a joke about paying late and I don’t think they were too impressed as the manager handed me a letter that he was giving all his drivers. It read as follows:

To All Drivers

As a result of a large number of our workshop customers buying new cabs, our workshop is going through a rough patch.
This is likely to continue for some time, which means that we are totally dependent on the income we get from cab rentals.
In order for us to survive it is essential that all drivers pay weekly or at the latest two weeks.
This will help us survive and also reduce the number of breakdowns we are having due to silly things like belts, brake leaks and items that are normally part of the weekly check.

We would be grateful for your co-operation on this matter.

Manager

I suppose it is only right and proper for the garage to expect to be paid promptly and I left there promising to pay on time in future. Whether it happens is another story.

So, completely skint, I set off to work from the garage and managed to earn enough to get some nosebag for the kids and me.

I was back on the road at 7.30pm and the work was steady. I also needed diesel but had to wait until I’d earned a few bob before I could put some in. All the pumps at the Goodsway BP were out of order except for the one that sells the better quality diesel. £1.19.9 per litre was what the robbing bastards were charging so I only put a tenner in, which never lasted long.

I had a little look on the Kings Cross rank but it was full of cabs. As I turned right onto Euston road a lady flagged me down and asked for Golders Green which would keep me busy for a while. On the way back into town from Golders Green I picked up Michael Portillo on the Finchley Road and took him down to the Victoria area where he lives. He never spoke a word to me nor me to him and he was texting on his phone the whole trip. He did give me a £2 tip though so fair play to him.

I was practically at my target for the night when a guy asked me to take him from Boujis out to Sanderstead in Surrey. He rang his girlfriend/wife enroute and started telling her how he was offered drugs inside the club. Apparently, he was given a package and wasn’t asked for any money. On opening the package he saw it was cocaine and went straight to the toilets and flushed it down the pan. He was then approached by someone who asked for the package back. Panicking, he told them he had given it to a friend who had since left the club. He was then forced out of the club with a knife at his back and made to get into a car where he had to hand over a hundred pounds to pay for the drugs. From the way the conversation was going his partner was disgusted with him for not calling the police or taking any sort of action but he was trying to get across to her that it was only a hundred pounds and it had probably saved him from coming to serious harm or worse. She cut the phone off and I heard him say “fucking bitch” but I never got involved. We arrived at his destination he paid me off and that was that.

I headed for home but only got as far as the Tesco on Warwick Road when I was hailed. This guy was calling out to his friend who was in a crumpled heap on the ground and I was instantly on alert for some sort of bullshit. The guy who hailed me was saying that the other one wasn’t drunk and that he’d been kicked down some stairs and was hurt. All the other cabbies who’d pulled in for him had taken one look at the guy on the ground and assumed he was drunk and sped away. As my guy had the door open I couldn’t do likewise and thought to myself “Fuck it, it’s the last job of the night, let’s just see what happens” As you do!!
The guy that had been on the ground finally got into the cab and he looked in a bad way. He had blood all around his face and had to be helped into the cab by the other one. Once in, I set off for East Acton. It turns out that the hurt guy had got into some sort of scrape, had been given a good pasting and then thrown down some stairs and left for dead. The other guy had found him in a crumpled heap, offered to call the police or an ambulance but the hurt guy just wanted to get home. The non-hurt guy was a bit of a fruit cake and was coming out with all sorts of things such as “We never leave a fallen comrade behind” and “We’re muckers me and you” and when the hurt guy indicated that his partner might not open the front door the fruit cake said “I’ll get you in mate, don’t worry about that. An Englishman’s home is his castle, ain’t that right driver” he said to me. “Absolutely” I replied, humouring him. Anyway, I got them to their destination in quick time and had to help get the poor hurt guy out. Once out they paid me off and the fruitcake started again: “You’re a diamond you are mate, fanks a lot” and started shaking my hand and finally grabbed my head and planted a kiss on the forehead. That was enough action for me for one night and I set off for home.

Wemberlee

2008-02-22T06:46:00.003Z

The day out at Wembley a couple of weeks ago was really enjoyable apart from trying to get home after the game. I’d heard comments from some of my passengers about the problems getting away from Wembley Stadium after a game but never really paid them no mind. I’d decided to leave the cab at Willesden Green Station and take the train the two stops to Wembley Park. Me, my son and his cousin met up with my eldest son and another 2 cousins and their friends at a bar next to the stadium. On entering the stadium we had to go up about 10 flights of stairs (or was it escalators?) to reach our seats in the nosebleed section. I always get a euphoric feeling when I enter a football stadium for the first time and see the pitch and surrounding stands. The buzz I got from seeing Wembley was tops (obviously not as good as Elland Road but a close second). It is worthy of being our national stadium. The food and drink was a total ripoff though and it wouldn’t be out of order to bring sandwiches next time. The game was OK but nothing more and there’s a lot of room for improvement.
After the game, trying to get back to the station was an absolute joke. There were 86,000 people at the game and I would say more than half were trying to get to the station. Everyone was penned in and packed together like sardines. I got a bit claustrophobic and we backtracked and tried to go another way. In the end we gave it up as a bad job and got a cab back to Willesden. It wasn’t a black cab but a miniscab and the guy didn’t have a clue which way to go. He went into a “No Through” road off Forty Lane (Mount Drive if anyone’s interested) and I thought to myself that he must know something I don’t. When we got to the cul-de-sac with no place left to go but back the way we came my son Danny, piped up and started having a go at him but I felt sorry for the guy and told Danny to lay off him. I directed him through the Welsh Harp and we came out by West Hendon and were soon driving freely through Cricklewood and arrived at Willedsen Green. In future, and for anyone else out there planning to go to a big game at Wembley, I would recommend driving there. Even if you have to park well away from the Stadium it’s worth it afterwards and you’ll be glad you did.

The following Tuesday Danny and me drove up to Leeds for the home game against Nottingham Forest. I thought the game was pretty exciting, well at least better than games of late but again there is much improvement needed if we plan to get promoted this season.

So with two big events and plenty of days off in between it’s safe to say that I’ve been left potless and have spent the last seven days grafting away to try and catch up. For the person that asked if I’d paid my freight (cab rent) the last time I posted. It was paid but is now, you guessed it 2 weeks overdue with no chance of it getting paid until Tuesday or Wednesday at the earliest where it will be three weeks again.

It seems that when I owe money to the garage, things always go wrong with the cab and I have to get the repairs done myself. When I paid up last time I asked them to service the cab. I went off for breakfast and returned a few hours later and was told all the things that had been repaired. A bolt had apparently snapped on the steering rack and I was lucky to be alive!! A comforting thought. New brakes had been fitted, door hinges lubed, a couple of new tyres put on but as I drove out of the garage it still felt like a heap of shit to me. I filled up at York Way Total garage and went to work. I started smelling something which was filtering it’s way into the cab. The temperature gauge was on the rise so I knew it was coolant escaping from somewhere. I drove home and inspected further. The bottom hose had split near the jubilee clip. Do I drive all the way back? Nah. Out comes the trusty Swiss Army Knife. I cut the hose up to the bad bit. There’s just enough hose left to go back on. It will need attention but I’ll get the mechanics to sort it as I’ll be paying the cab on time, won’t I? Nah. It barely lasts a week. Now I owe one weeks rent and I don’t have it as I’ve just blown a fortune in the Elland Road Club Shop. (New kit and a tasty looking hoody for Danny and a supersized LUFC mug for me to enjoy supersized cups of tea in) I ring the local car spares place in Willesden but they don’t do cab spares. I drive down to the Royal Oak Taxi centre in my sons car but there isn’t a garage down there anymore. I need to work and earn money but the cab’s fucked. Why do I do this to myself? Shall I ring the garage and tell them to come out to me and fix it? I can’t coz they’ll want the rent. “What a loser” I think to myself. I’ve always been crap with money and probably always will be. Think!! Think!! Who’ll have a spare bottom hose? Shall I ring Supermechanic? He’s got a TX4 so it’s probably completely different. I need another cab garage. I try Shirland Mews but that garage is long gone and has even been pulled down and had flats built where it used to be. I think of one in Kilburn but that’s not there either. There’s one in Dersingham Road that I’ve been to before I’ll try there. Alleluiah!!!! They have it. Now for some reason I’d got it into my head that it was the top hose so after parting with £12.50 I happily drove all the way home from Cricklewood thinking I would be on the road within the hour. Not so. One look at the damaged hose told me I’d bought the wrong one. Bollocks, double bollocks and treble bollocks!!!! A few deep breaths and a philosophical view on the situation calmed me down somewhat and I drove back to Cricklewood, parted with an extra fiver and came away with the correct hose. It was on in no time and it took about 5 litres of water to fill the radiator to the brim. As one problem gets sorted another one arises. A few days later the fan belt starts slipping. This is the one I put on a few months back. The alternator bracket was already at full stretch so I would need another belt. Almost two weeks cab rent due so I must do it myself again. The fan belt is easier than the hose to obtain and also at £4 much cheaper. I put it on with ease. I should’ve been a mechanic as I love getting in there and fixing stuff. That was a few days ago and all is well for now.

A few nights ago I was sitting at the traffic lights at Elizabeth Street and Buckingham Palace Road when the back door opens and in gets a scruffy looking Herbert. “Barking” he exclaims in a non-descript accent. The lights change and I pull round the corner and pull over. “That’ll be fifty pounds up front please,” I announce. “eh?” “Fifty pounds, you pay first” I say to the guy. He puts his hand in his jacket pocket and pulls out a hand full of shrapnel. “Are you taking the piss” I say to him, followed by “get out of my taxi” “No, no I have money” and pulls his wallet from inside his jacket. He did indeed have money and offered me a £10 note. “I need fifty pounds my friend” “Fifty?” “Yes fifty” Out came the other forty and we were in business. “Now I need beer” says the man to me “and telephone card”. It was after midnight and there aren’t many places where you can legally get beer but a lot of these late/all night shops will sell you it on the quiet. I set off thinking where I would be able to stop for him to get beer and could only think of Whitechapel Road as a likely place. Every few minutes he would call from the back “beer, I need beer” He already smelt like he’d had a barrel load and I kept saying 15 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes and he would reply “OK”. Eventually we got to Whitechapel Road and the first place he tried sold him 2 cans of Heineken. The way he was going on I thought he wanted a crate of the stuff but he seemed happy with his 2 cans and cracked one open immediately and took a big swig. “Ahhhh!!!” came a sound from the back. “Now I want telephone card” was his next demand. These sort of people get on my tits and I never bothered answering. He said it a few more times before we arrived at the address he’d given me but I just blanked him. He was reluctant to knock on the door and wanted to phone someone but had no credit. “I need telephone card” he repeated. I offered to ring the number on my phone. “How much” he wanted to know. “For you, nothing” and I dialled the number. I gave him the phone and he talked to someone in Russian. 2 seconds later the front door flew open and a big bald guy came rushing out and hugged my passenger. They were obviously pleased to see each other and forgot all about me. I already had fifty of the guy’s money and the fare was just £2 more so I never bothered waiting for the rest and drove off.

Tonight’s shift went extremely well considering I wasn’t in the mood for it.
The first job took me out to the Premier Inn at ExCeL East and I got a job from Canary Wharf back to Covent Garden so I was £60 up in the first hour and a bit.

I stopped for a kebab at Efes in Great Titchfield Street. I've been dining alone for a few weeks as Chris is on holiday in Thailand for a month. I ended up back near ExCeL later on with a job out to Beckton Alps from Victoria. The Aussie guy asked for a price and when I said “the best part of forty quid” he nearly had a seizure. Well we all know how Aussie’s don’t like to part with their money don't we!! I had to stop at the Asda cashpoint at Beckton and to save a few more pennies he decided to walk the rest of the way from there.

I drove all the way back to St James’s Street before I trapped again and this job took me to Bayswater after which I called it a night. At 1.18am the kids rang to see if I was in a good mood as they were in need of supplies (sweets and niceties). I came home and picked up Michael and drove to Tesco Express nearby where I parted with £16 for a basket full of happiness.

Halfway through typing this post I heard the mousetrap snap and went to investigate. Poor thing, he (or she) only wanted the bit of mature English Cheddar I left for it.
Pesky mice.

Alkies and Karma

2008-02-01T10:08:00.000Z

I’ve been steadily busy since the last post. I’m now into a routine where I like to be out the door and in the saddle by 7pm at the latest. That way you get the busy spell leading up to the start of the shows at the theatres and after 8pm there’s a steady stream of people heading out to dinner or home from work. I’ve done a few nice runs out into the sticks. One was from Big Ben to Leatherhead, which was a change from the normal.

It was my birthday on Wednesday. I’m now 46 but feel like I’m 56. I have aches and pains everywhere and am always thinking the worst. I picked up a 90-year-old last night and he looked good for his age. He was enjoying life and even had long-term plans that you could quite believe he will achieve. My goals are much more realistic suchas, pay the cab by Tuesday, pay the rent every Friday. It’s not all doom and gloom though. I have two football matches to look forward to over the coming weeks. This coming Wednesday I will be going to the New Wembley Stadium for the first time to see England play Switzerland and the following week me and my eldest son are going up to Leeds to see our team play Nottingham Forest, always a great occasion.

My second son, Michael is between jobs but is now taking driving lessons once a week and really enjoying it. I haven’t played darts for a few weeks as there weren’t any league games but I shall be there this Monday where we play in a tournament arranged by our captain.

I managed to get to the garage soon after last post and bring my account up to date and had a few bulbs changed and the fan belt tightened. Since then I’m back in the same position and hope to be clear by this Tuesday. There are some funny noises coming from the suspension. Now some of my mates reckon I’m paranoid about suspension and that I think all the cabs I’ve driven have had dodgy suspension. I believe they have and that I must be one unlucky SOB when it comes to suspensions. Even after this present cab came out of its annual overhaul it felt the same and has steadily worsened. We’ll see what they say on Tuesday.

What else has happened in the last few weeks? Oh yes the Boeing 777 crash at Heathrow. Those passengers had a very lucky escape thanks to the two pilots. I can’t speak for other nationalities but British pilots always inspire confidence in me and give me a good sense of security so whenever possible I try and fly British.

I’ve been stopping for coffee with Chris on most nights. We mostly stop at Gloucester Road as there is a large selection of establishments to choose from but it all depends on where we are. A few nights ago we stopped at the Piccolo in Gresham Street in The City (Business District) and another night we stopped at Grosvenor Gardens in Victoria. Whilst at this particular place I took the opportunity to pop into the arcade to get some change. It’s frowned upon to simply go in and get change and then walk out so I often put a couple of quid in one of the slots. I had £12 in the bank on one machine and in all my excitement I hit gamble instead of collect and lost the lot.

A couple of nights ago I pulled up for this guy. On closer inspection I could see he was rat-arsed. The doors were locked as he tried to get in without speaking to me first (I hate that). He came to the window and couldn’t even speak coherently. He wanted to go out to Hackney but didn’t know the name of the road, the postcode or anything that may help me get him home. He may still be there now on that corner in Belgravia!!

A Saddam Hussein look-alike flagged me down in South Kensington last week. He had four cans of beer in his hands and looked a bit unsteady but not enough to cause me to drive by. Once inside, I wish I had. He was looking for his friend who had walked off and started directing me. He knelt at the partition and tried to get his big head in the gap but my screen was doing its job. He then started crying, yes crying. He was telling me that he was an alcoholic and that AA had fucked him up somehow. He then passed his beers through the screen and told me to have them (they’re still in my fridge) as he was trying to stop drinking. I felt sorry for the guy but also aware that I was just trying to earn my nights money with the minimum of hassle. We pulled into Reece Mews where he told me to wait while he checked at a house. “Will you wait for me?” “Of course I will” “D’you promise?” “Yes” Man gets out trying to leave the door open but the camber in the road is enough to partially close the door but keep the “Door open Bleeper” bleeping. I roar off out of the mews with him trying to catch me. Sorry mate but I don’t need the grief.

This last week has been pretty quiet, for me anyway. Every night I’ve ended the shift a few bob short of my target. One day, I think it was Monday, I could do nothing right, I’d rank up at Victoria or South Kensington, wait longer than normal and then get a job going just around the corner. Yesterday took the biscuit as I did about 25-30 minutes on Victoria only to go to the Hesperia Hotel, which practically adjoins the station. I moaned a bit and got a fiver for my troubles.

Two streets from home, a few nights ago, an oriental-looking young woman hails me. Now, I’m like a few hundred yards from home but open to offers if it’s gonna be worth my while. She wants to go to Hounslow she says to me climbing in the back. On closer inspection she has a loser-quality about her and I’m already thinking to my self “get the money upfront”. I didn’t even have to ask her as a young guy appeared from somewhere and said “Don’t take her, she hasn’t got any money” She screamed something at him and got back out and stormed off down Salusbury Road. Chris was on the phone to me at the time and we laughed at the close call. I’m probably due a bit of grief but hopefully not too soon. A lady I took to Camberwell last night gave me a twenty and two tens for a £22 fare and I gave her one of the tenners back. “You’re honest” she said thanking me. “It’s the only way to be” I replied. That should give me some good Karma.

Forever Chasing

2008-01-15T02:42:00.000Z

I am three and a half weeks behind with the cab rent. So, what’s new? Apparently nothing, as it’s the norm for me to be chasing hundreds of pounds to square the garage off. The good news is that another good, and I mean good, shift, will see me achieve my goal and I should be sorted by Wednesday afternoon. There aren’t even any repairs, minor or otherwise that need doing to the cab whilst I’m there unless a completely new suspension counts as a repair. The fact that the cab isn’t mine seems to soften the blow somewhat, but for the money I’m paying (eventually) I shouldn’t have to drive around in an old shitcart.

Anyhoo. The work is out there you just have to get your arse in the saddle and go and find it. I’ve only had a few days off since the turn of the year and apart from the first few days it seems to be ok work-wise. There’s nothing really out of the ordinary to report either which actually doesn’t make for a good post for the readers I’m afraid.

Tonight’s shift was amazing compared to all the other shifts I’ve done since the New Year for the simple reason that I earned a lot of money in a short space of time.
My football team, Leeds United, made a rare appearance on live TV so I had decided to stay in and watch the game, which we won by a goal to nil. Having this cab rent thing hanging over me I decided it was best to get out there. I started at 10pm, which is well late even for me and expected nothing from the shift.

The first job took me from Paddington out to the Isle of Dogs, a £35 ride. From there I went up onto Canary Wharf and ranked up on Cabot Square. I waited about 15 minutes and pulled off the rank, as it was extremely quiet. I made a circuit of the Wharf and trapped in Upper Bank Street, a couple of American businesswomen going back to the Isle of Dogs. After dropping them off I decided not to go back to Canary Wharf and drove through the Limehouse Link towards town. The yellow M of McDonalds caught my eye on The Highway so I drove in for a Hot Chocolate and a Chicken sandwich. The hot chocolate used to be great then they did something to it and it was all watery and now it’s almost back to how it used to be so it was quite enjoyable. As I drove out of the drive-thru a dodgy looking guy stuck his hand up and I lowered the window to see what he wanted. He only wanted to go all the way back to my side of town! Even if he did a runner I would still be in familiar territory so I took a gamble. As in most cases when you think the passenger is a wrongun he turned out to be the complete opposite and paid up no problem adding a good tip as well.

After another shorter trip I found my self in Kensington High Street. A couple looking and sounding hassled and harried flagged me down and asked for the Crowne Plaza Heathrow. Could the shift get any better? I was already into my first hundred in only a few hours. If only all nights could be like this.

The Xeta system was experiencing problems tonight so anyone wanting to do account work had to ring the office and be allocated the work manually. As I’m chasing cash today and tomorrow I couldn’t do any account work but Chris was out there tonight and he always likes to finish with an Underground job. After ringing the office on several occasions he was allocated a job with four pickups ending in Ruislip not far from his home near Watford.

I did a few more jobs and then called it a night after only four hours work. It had been a very productive four hours, which almost never happened.I think from next week people will start receiving their January pay packets so there will be more freaks and arseholes out there to make us cabbies lives a little more difficult. So until payday, take care out there.

Forget About It

2008-01-03T07:15:00.000Z

So, I’ll start by wishing you all a Happy New Year and hopefully it will be a prosperous one for all of us.

I never worked New Year’s Eve or Day. The £4 extra that we’re entitled to add to the “extras” on the meter puts me off as far too many people complain. If I didn’t add it then I would think that I was mugging myself off so the answer is to not work at all until the meter has returned to normal on January the 2nd.

As my body clock is severely messed up at the moment I find myself sleeping late, as in 11am and 12pm late and getting up at around 7 or 8 and even 9pm and having to rush straight out the door. As I was rushing out my door this evening (Wednesday at around 9.30pm) I was hit by an icy blast of wind. Surely snow would come later that night or at least slippery, icy roads. I made a mental note to take it easy.

I drove towards Paddington and made it all the way to the back of a full rank. It was going to be a slow night, I could feel it in the air.

The line moved at a snails pace and I eventually made it to the front where I picked up a job to the Hilton Hotel at Euston. From there I drove towards the west end where I would be sure to trap a job. I got all the way through Kingsway, The Aldwych and round to the Strand without a sniff. Things must be bad. Onwards through the Admiralty Arch, the Mall, Buckingham Palace Road and round towards Victoria Station. I couldn’t even get on the back of the rank here without stopping on a Red Route and risk getting another fine so I drove round to the Raft for a cursory look but the situation was the same. Nothing for it but to go to plan B. Nosebag. I drove to my favourite Chinese Take Away in Battersea Park Road ordering by phone en route. This shop and others like it must be making an absolute fortune as people will always have to eat. I collected my Satay Chicken and Special Fried Rice and sat next to the park munching and listening to my ipod. Sufficiently nourished I set off for work again and decided to give Victoria another go. It was still busy with cabs but I managed to get onto the back of the rank next to Argos. Whilst sitting at the lights I snagged a job to Bayswater and then managed to put a little run together. Notting Hill Gate to the Moonlight Club in Greek Street, Soho. A nice one from Glasshouse street to Lower Richmond Road in Putney. Kings Road to Craven Cottage. Fulham Road to Chelsea Bridge Wharf and I finally ended up back on Victoria where an American family of four with enormous luggage (5 huge cases) struggled to get in and asked to be taken to the Citadines in High Holborn all rounded off with a four pound tip.

As I was dropping that last job off Chris rang me to ask if I was close as he was holding a cash job to Harrow for me at Baker Street Station. What a pal!! He’s always been a thoughtful person as long as I’ve known him. It would’ve done him to go home but he already had an Underground job and was waiting for his passengers. I flew round from Holborn and my passenger was sitting in Chris’s cab enjoying the warmth and no doubt being highly entertained by Chris as well. I thanked Chris for the favour and set off for Harrow.

That was my final job of the night and I’d managed to earn the best part of one and a half or as Paradise Driver would write it - 9 fares / 50 miles / 2nd quarter £200 bracket –
Not bad for about four hours in the saddle.

Last night Michael and me started watching a documentary about the real Donnie Brasco and about how he infiltrated the New York Mafia. It's one of those films that just seem to have passed me by the first time around so by the end of the documentary we just had to somehow obtain a copy of the film ASAP. I went on Amazon.co.uk and bought it for only a few pounds but would still have to wait for it to be delivered. Not satisfied I went-a-huntin for it on the net and after five hours I had a copy of it on my hard drive or should I say my external hard drive. It was now 10am (this was Wednesday morning before I’d slept and worked last night). I went to check to see if Michael was awake but he was snoring away on the settee so I watched it my self and actually felt sorry for Lefty who would pay the penalty for allowing Donnie Brasco into his confidence. So fast forwarding to 2am on Thursday morning after finishing my shift with Chris’s gift, I arrived home and Michael was gagging to watch the film. I made myself a large cup of tea and Michael poured himself a glass of orange Fanta and we plotted up on my bed with Dude the Jack Russell squashed in between us to watch it on this very computer. One of the catchphrases from the film was “forget about it” which can be used in four or five scenarios. We haven’t stopped saying it all night. The film finished at 4.45am and we both felt a bit peckish so we went down to the Royal Oak Taxi Centre for a fry-up. We were the only one’s in there except for another cabbie who was pumping all his nights takings into the fruit machines. He had several wins but put all the money back and eventually left glum and empty handed. We left and went home via the Esso in Sutherland Avenue where we bought a few essentials and finally got home around 6.10am. It is now 7.12 and I’m still not tired so I guess the body clock will have to stay messed up for another night.

Take Care Out There

Seasons Greetings

2007-12-22T07:58:00.000Z

Even a timely windfall from the courts was not enough to warrant a day off before the 24th of this month. Having submitted a letter to the court from my accountant in order to be reimbursed by them for doing jury service I was amazed when I received only a quarter of what I lost or never earned. It would be a pointless exercise for me to follow this up as the paperwork that accompanied the summons clearly stated the amount I would receive per day, I just never believed it. In any case they paid me promptly enough just in time for Christmas. What happens to people who have big mortgages to pay I wonder?

I got my TX1 back on Wednesday, and not a moment too soon. The Fairway I was driving was beginning to make me ill. Crap suspension, crap heating, crap windscreen wipers and crap security. It got broken into whilst on my drive one day last week and a bag containing quite important stuff to me was stolen. I’ve never been broken into whilst driving a TX1 or TX11 as it’s harder to break into these types of cabs without breaking the glass. The Fairways or FX4’s window locks are very basic and with a good pull the windows can be lowered allowing access to the door handles inside. It was mostly stuff that can be replaced but there were a few personal effects in there that can’t be which I will moan about for a few weeks and then move on with my life.

I’ve been able to do Xeta work again since getting the cab back as the bracket to hold the PDA and the GPS antenna remained with the cab during the overhaul. After a decent shift on Friday I finished up by accepting an underground job. As I’ve mentioned before that’s where we have to collect London Underground staff and take them home. I bid on a job from Morden Station whilst I was in the Chelsea area and was offered the job, which meant a long drive down to the station. I knew the job ended up in Edgware as it comes out every night so it was worth running for it. When I arrived at Morden the whole area was sealed off with Police tape but there wasn’t a copper in sight. The closest I could get was still pretty far from the pickup and I was immediately swamped by people looking for cabs. After fighting them off I decided the best thing to do was to get out of the cab and walk back to the station to see if I could see my first passenger. Most underground workers wear pretty distinctive blue coats with white trim on the arms so I was sure to spot him, wasn’t I? Unbeknown to me this guy had walked straight past me wearing something totally not London Underground issue uniform and managed to find my cab which had a name board with the logo on it whilst I’m stood at the station in the freezing cold waiting for him. After 15 minutes of simultaneously waiting and freezing my nuts off I thought “fuck this for a laugh” and walked back to my cab. Seeing this guy standing there in unfamiliar clothing I opened up the cab and started the engine and fired up the heater, which luckily after 15 minutes was still partially warm. “knock knock” went the window. “Are you waiting for so and so?” asked my man. “Yes I am,” I answered. “I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes,” says he. He may have wanted to start a rant at me but thought better of it as I must have looked stressed, fed up, pissed off call it what you like. I wasn’t in the mood for anyone’s complaints and would think nothing of it to terminate the ride there and then at the risk of being expelled from the radio circuit. Only tonight was I discussing with Chris about the minute amount of work this radio circuit has and if the subs were any more than the £13 we pay per week then they could shove it where the sun don’t shine. We’re just a back-up for a bigger radio circuit and we get all the work their drivers refuse to do. From 8pm until midnight I wasn’t offered one job, luckily there was plenty of street work. Post-Christmas should be interesting!!

The last few days of the pre-festive season are with us and there are some strange, if not comical people, out there. This next guy brightened my evening tonight.
I dropped a couple off at Sussex Square near Paddington and was immediately approached by a gentleman of Arabic appearance with a handlebar moustache (Poirot style) looking slightly disorientated and extremely drunk.

(Try and imagine this next exchange with a strong Arabic accent)

Him: My friend, where is Hyde Park Square?
Me: Just a few hundred yard along there mate.
Him: Where am I?
Me: You’re in Sussex Square and Hyde Park Square is that way, I can drive you there if you like?
Him: How much?
Me: About three pounds
Him: Two pounds (his haggling qualities kicking in)
Me: The meter starts at two twenty and it’s not negotiable.

He then tries to open the door but the handle is hard to locate as it’s camouflaged by my door advertising. He eventually finds it and opens the door. I hear a thud and look into the back of the cab. He’s sprawled on the floor face down mumbling something in Arabic. He manages to get up and park his bum on the seat.

Him: OK my friend, we go to number 2 Hyde Park Square, you wait for me and then we go to the Barracuda Club. I pay you five pounds OK?
Me: No, not OK you pay me what’s on the meter. (not one to suffer fools gladly I follow up with) I tell you what my friend (being slightly condescending), I’ll take you to Hyde Park Square, you pay me three pounds, you go in and do what you have to do and then get another cab to take you to the Barracuda, OK?

He seemed to accept this and I drove him the short distance to Hyde Park Square in silence. On arrival he opened the rear door and promptly fell out of the cab and landed face down on the pavement. I know it’s only slightly funny but I had to laugh. He got up, dusted himself down and answered my request for three pounds by producing three coins and then turned on his heels and entered the building. I was almost tempted to wait there until he came out to find another cab but I could’ve waited forever whilst there were people out there looking for cabs. I drove off with a smile all the same.

The penultimate job was a strange one. I picked a couple up from East Smithfield just before Tower Bridge. The lady was directing and asked for Mint Street. I asked did she mean Royal Mint Street which was literally a hundred yards away and she agreed. They began a deep kissing session which I had to keep interrupting to get further directions. I must have said “where now?” about five or six times before she tried to get me to drive through a no entry and make an illegal turn. I asked her what the name of her road was but she only knew how to direct me. She normally walked hence the dodgy directions. In between each direction they resumed snogging and the guy was trying to get her to let him go into her house with her but she wasn’t in the mood.
“What are you going to do in there all by yourself?” he asked. She gave him some excuse or other and said she’d call him and left the cab. Deflated, the guy asked me to take him to the Sunborn Yacht out by the ExCeL Centre in Docklands. From the telephone call that ensued I could only assume it was his wife he was going back to with the taste of another woman on his lips. Tut Tut!

All in all it was a good night and it only leaves me two more nights of work before I have a three day break for Christmas.

Happy Christmas to you all.

On the case

2007-12-15T02:58:00.001Z

It’s been a while hasn’t it?

Well, I’ve been on jury service for the last few weeks and have had to work as well so I haven’t had the energy to blog.

I won’t go into the details of the trial but it was an industrial espionage case involving phone tapping and computer hacking. The defendant was only on the fringes of the whole thing and after a short deliberation we agreed he was not guilty. He was very relieved and mouthed the words “thank you” over to us. The police officers on the other hand were not and shook their heads in disbelief at our verdict. The whole thing was an experience but financially it has taken its toll on me. The courts only pay you a certain amount, certainly not enough to cover what I’ve lost. I pity those people with a mortgage. Also I was lucky that the trial only lasted two weeks, some of the other jurors were on cases lasting from between three to six months, that would definitely have ruined me, as I’m sure it’s ruined some of them.

My regular cab is now in the garage going through its annual overhaul. The manager brought a Fairway round to me last Friday as I was busy in court and couldn’t get over to the garage. What a shit-cart!! There are at least a dozen things wrong with this cab but the main thing is that the suspension is actually non-existent. I may as well be driving a horse and cart. Two people have commented on the bumpiness of the ride and I’m sure many more would’ve loved to. I can’t wait to get the other one back.

I’ve been trying to do a bit of work most nights after finishing at the court but as tiredness has set in I’ve ended up going home early.

This week has seen work in abundance on the streets due to the Christmas parties taking place. Tonight it was “one in one out” everywhere and even as I finished there were still hundreds of people looking for cabs.

I was in the traffic at Notting Hill Gate when a guy came up to the window and asked if I would go to Wimbledon Village for twenty pounds. I said no and drove off and he tried to stop me pulling away by grabbing the window frame shouting “Oi, oi, wait!!”
People like him make me sick. Would he accept less money in his pay packet at work because his boss didn’t want to pay him the full amount?

I stopped with Chris tonight at Gloucester Road where we had a coffee. Whilst looking at all the lovely ladies walking past our cabs the conversation inevitably turned to sex.

EDIT: Next bit was removed by author as it may have caused offence.

Good Night all.

Drunks, Beauties and Flashers.

2007-11-21T06:09:00.000Z

So, England, my national football team, are given a “get out of jail free” card by Israel and now have their Euro 2008 destiny back in their own hands. Let’s not waste it lads.
Because of the GOOJF card I now have to either miss work tomorrow or go out after the game at around 10pm. There’s always something prohibiting me from working a full week these days. I won’t have the same problem with my beloved Leeds United as they were knocked out of the FA Cup by league 2 side Hereford. We fielded what looked on paper like a full strength team but still managed to lose at Elland Road. At least we can now concentrate on promotion.

My Mondays are now taken up playing for a darts team. I’ve played on and off for a long time. I’ve always had a dartboard on the wall wherever I’ve lived and can stand there for hours practicing. In one of my homes there was nowhere to hang it so I put it on a piece of wood across the toilet door. You had to bend down to get into the toilet and would invariably whack your head or scrape your back at least once or twice a week. My wife used to scream at me to take it down but I never did. My two sons also love to play and the rivalry at home can be fierce at times. We actually won our first game this week and spent the rest of the evening celebrating in style.

The body clock is shifting around again as it does from time to time. I’m finding myself getting out of bed at around five or six in the evening and having to get straight out to work. I didn’t even have time to cook a meal for the kids but luckily there was enough food in the house for them to rustle themselves something up.

I walked out the door at 7pm and drove straight down to the Royal Oak Taxi Centre for a meal. I checked with Chris to see if he was “coming out to play” but he had just ordered a pizza and was debating whether to stay in or come to work. He did eventually come out to play. I had my usual, Spaghetti Bolognese and a chicken escalope and afterwards I drove down to Paddington Station for my first job, which went to the Thistle Charing Cross Hotel. (I noticed all the Thistle logos were missing so I’m assuming it’s been taken over by another company) The traffic between Paddington and Park Lane was at a standstill as the traffic entering Edgware Road was stopping the Bayswater Road traffic from entering the one-way system. It’s a regular occurrence at that junction and if there was anyway that we could know before hand we could divert through Hyde Park, but then we wouldn’t get the waiting time hehe!! The job went £20 instead of the usual £10. Tut tut!!

I found my self on the South Kensington Rank and a couple of likely lads walked up to me and asked if I knew anywhere in Soho where they could “get girls”. Now I know quite a few places and had a particular one in mind, which would be beneficial to both parties, them and me. I headed for the New Georgian Club in Mill Street, rubbing my hands together as I drove along. As I turned off of Conduit Street into Mill Street I looked to my left for the familiar doorway. It wasn’t there. It’s now a Japanese Club. They had been getting ready to leave the cab when I informed them that it was closed. “What now? “ one of them asked me. I told them that I knew of another club in Kingley Street and they said that they wanted something a bit more instant. The only way they would get something instant would be to find a telephone box and ring a number from one of the many cards stuck to the walls advertising all sorts of personal services. I offered to get the cards and ring the numbers and after speaking to a few “madams” they opted for an address a few streets away in Harley Street. A few meters from the address they lost their nerve and they both bottled out and asked me to take them to Spearmint Rhino instead. Pussies!!!

I met Chris in Oxford Street and we had a coffee and a slice of cake whilst parked in the middle of the road. Buses and taxis were passing us on both sides as we watched the world go by. We were sitting in Chris’s cab and the cake I was eating was topped with icing sugar which was making a mess of his carpet so I had to go get my hand brush and sweep it out.

Once finished we went our separate ways. I trapped almost immediately. This guy was rat-arsed. He wanted to go to his new girlfriend’s house in Earls Court. He asked if he could smoke. “No, it’s illegal” I said. He said he’d take care and open the window. I said no again but I think he may have lit up all the same. He talked non-stop. He knew politicians and important people. I just let him ramble on as he didn’t seem to want an answer. Then his phone rang. It was his new girlfriend. He cupped the mouthpiece for privacy but I had the intercom on and could hear the whole conversation. “Do you love me” he asked her. “I can’t wait to see you” “we’re gonna have some fun tonight”. Good luck to him, I thought to myself. Then he started kissing the phone and caressing it and making all the kissing noises. Possibly a bit over the top but so what? The man was in love. Unaware that I had witnessed the whole thing he resumed his monologue after hanging up. He started telling me a story of how he’d got one over on our sworn enemies, the miniscabs (unlawful taxis). He told me how a miniscab had touted him at Victoria. The tout, a Kosovan, asked him in broken English where he wanted to go and he informed him he wanted to go to Folkestone (90? Miles away) on the South Coast. “Where’s that” the tout exclaimed. “What’s the furthest you’ve ever taken anyone?” asked my man. The tout replied “Orpington for £20”. My man then told him that Folkestone was a fiver past Orpington and the tout took him all the way to Folkestone for £25. It could’ve happened but I thought it highly unlikely and humoured him all the same. He asked to stop at a food outlet and I told him the ride would have to end there as I didn’t want food in the cab. I was glad to get him out as he was giving me the hump.

It’s very rare that I have even one conversation during my shift. Partly because they don’t instigate it and partly because I can’t be bothered. Tonight I had three decent conversations.

The second one was with a stunning woman who asked my opinion on whether I found her attractive. She had been to a party and the only person to have approached her was a bouncer “and he was fat” she added. Seeing that I was a bit on the portly side she quickly added “not that there’s anything wrong with fat people” and proceeded to dig a big hole for herself. I had to stop her as she was getting flustered and told her that the reason she wasn’t having any luck with men was that they were probably intimidated by her beauty and felt that they never had a chance with her. She would have to take the initiative. By the end of the trip I had deduced that she would always have trouble with men because she was, what I would call, a prat. Plain and simple. Totally up herself with no humility or charisma. I wished her luck on her quest and drove off shaking my head.

The third conversation was with a lovely old boy wearing a kilt. Yes he was Scottish. We started talking about football and how lucky England had been to get a lifeline into Euro 2008. That led onto how unlucky the Scotland team had been and how tough a group they had been selected into. He got extremely animated as he spoke and as I turned to face him when stopped at lights I could see his kilt was riding up over his knees to reveal he was a traditionalist. It was only a short ride so his exhibitionism was soon at an end. And…..he gave me a five pound tip. Not bad for a Scotsman.

So, not the best of nights but more interesting than most.

Check back soon.

Cold and quiet

2007-11-14T04:40:00.000Z

The points issue has yet to be resolved. Maybe the last three I received have got lost in the post, here’s hoping. Since then I have been driving around like a snail. It’s quite painful. It must be the same for everyone else. Night driving should be looked upon as completely different to day driving. No kids to run over, no elderly folks, not much of anything really just empty streets with cars all driving ridiculously slow for the road conditions. Sometimes I think it would be better if I did lose my licence permanently as I would then be forced into a complete career change whilst I’m still young enough.

After getting a new alternator fitted I still had one more bit of grief with the cab. The following day the battery still hadn’t charged fully so by the morning it went flat after only a few turns of the key. I boosted it with my son’s car and went to work and after a whole shift it still went flat the next day so after boosting it yet again I had to go back to the garage for a new battery. I drove over to the garage and just before arriving I stopped one street away, switched the engine off, flicked the fuel cut-off to “off” and turned the engine over a few times to run the battery down to the last bit of power in case they said there was nothing wrong with it. I over-did it and ended up stranded. I rang the garage up and one of the mechanics came out to me with a booster pack. A new battery was fitted and all has been well ever since. It’s so cold at the moment that any sub-standard battery will struggle to perform. I'm still having gearbox problems whereby the gearbox refuses to jump into second gear unless I’m flat out and now a new problem seems to be starting up where the power steering is misbehaving when cold. It’s never-ending with this cab yet I still persevere with it. Why?

It was noticeably quiet on the streets tonight. I started a bit late today on account seeing a mouse run behind the fridge. I ran upstairs and grabbed the dog, a Jack Russell, from my daughter’s room and placed him behind the fridge. The mouse saw him and made a dash for the kitchen door but the dog was too quick for it and soon had the mouse between his jaws, extinguishing its life in an instant.

My first job went from Paddington Station to Spencer Park in Wandsworth and on my way back over the bridge I trapped a job up to Kensington. Chris was also out tonight and we met up at the Piccolo in Mayfair for a bit of dinner, well, he had dinner and I only had a coffee as I’d eaten steak and kidney pie and mash at home before coming out to work. The rest of the shift wasn’t fantastic but there was a burst of activity from ten till twelve and then it died down again. I ranked at Victoria and the beggar was doing the rounds but no-one gave him anything. My job took me to Milner Square in Islington and from there I fuelled up at the BP (£1.06 per litre, scandalous!!) in Goodsway. I drove down the newly opened Pancras Road and ranked at Kings Cross where I got a fare to Bethnal Green, a stripper going to the Metropolis Club and then her friend went onto Hackney. I drove all the way back to Victoria without getting a fare and ended up at the back of a full taxi rank. It took ages to reach the head of the feeder rank and I was tempted to pull off and head for home but thought it better to wait a while longer. There was only one cab in front of me and he was approached by a dodgy looking character. After what looked like a refusal from the cab driver (a no-no on a rank unless you imediately pull off) the guy walked back to me. Now, if the front cab had driven off at this point then it would’ve been my job but he chose to sit there, which is looked on as an insult to the cabby behind..........me!! As the Prospective Passenger approached me I lowered the window down a few inches and said :
Me: If he ain’t doing it then neither am I.
PP: Why not?
Me: Because it’s his job and he shouldn’t be brooming stuff he doesn’t want.
PP: So what am I supposed to do?
Me: Go and tell him he has to do it. Where d’you want to go?
PP: Brixton (a crap area)
Me: Well it’s his job so he has to take you.

The guy walked back to the front cab, had a few more words with the driver and then the cab sped off leaving the guy with a vacant looked on his face and staring in my direction. Not being in the mood for any bullshit on this cold night I too drove off. As I looked in my rear view I could see the next few cabs pull off as well. I guess we all had the same gut-feeling that this guy was a wrongun. I wonder if he got home.

Having done about 30 minutes “bird” and ending up empty handed I decided to call it a night and drove the few miles home with my Hire light on but never managed to trap another job. I’ll have to get out much earlier tomorrow.

Singe: A slight or surface burn; a scorch.

2007-11-05T20:09:00.000Z

We had our Guy Fawkes Night party on Sunday the 4th at my parents’ house. My brother in law had acquired an enormous box of fireworks from a friend of his so it was decided to have a party with food thrown in as well. My son, nephew, brother in law and myself were in charge of the fireworks and we made sure they were fired from as safe a distance as was physically possible in my mothers extremely cluttered garden. The first few rockets and fireworks went off as they were supposed to. One rocket decided to misbehave and gave everyone a scare. The fuse was lit and the rocket started to fizz. It then attempted to take off but there seemed to be insufficient thrust. Barely six feet off the ground, the rocket turned 90 degrees towards the watching crowd and then decided to speed up. As everyone dived out of the way it just about missed everyone, including my mother, who was watching from an upstairs window, and bounced off the slates on the roof and nose-dived back downwards landing in the neighbour’s patio with an enormous bang. A few of the little kids there were alarmed but all the teenagers thought it was great and all you could hear were whoops of delight. I was worried that there may be more dud rockets in the box and tried to angle the launch tube away from the house. The rest of the fire works went off without any more surprises and we left the biggest one till last which had everyone applauding at the end. All that was left were a few packets of sparklers, which were distributed between all of us. Once all of them were lit they were waived around in circles creating all sorts of patterns. As there were so many of us in such a confined space it was inevitable that something would go wrong. One of the waiving sparklers made contact with the hood of my daughter’s jacket and promptly caught light. It didn’t just catch light it started blazing which also started to set fire to her hair. Swift action by a few of us was implemented and the fire was put out but the shock was too much for Katie to take and she broke down in tears and had to be taken home by my son. She’s OK now but vow’s never to play with sparklers again.

I’ve had a few more problems with the cab over the last few weeks. The red battery light has been staying alight and then after a while going out. I checked the fan belt and it was tight so could only assume that the alternator was on the way out. But after hearing a recent exchange in the office at my garage where the manager refused to replace the alternator of another cab because it was still charging I decided to say nothing. One day last week I came out to work and the engine barely started. After driving around for a few hours the battery light went out and the battery charged itself so all was well, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the thing let me down.
So on Saturday morning I was driving my daughter to her friend’s house when the red light flashed on and off a good few times and finally settled for “on” permanently. This was also accompanied by a weird noise, prompting me to pull over and investigate further. On raising the bonnet I could see straight away that the fanbelt had come away from the pulley and would either need tightening or replacing. As I was minutes away from dropping Katie at her friend’s I decided to do that first and then find a motor spares shop in the nearby High Street. I found one almost straight away and went in to see if they had the belt I would need. The computer told them what I would need but the belt they brought out seemed too small. They asked if I could bring in the old belt. As It was still in one piece and attached to the cab I had to cut it off with my trusty 8 in one utility tool that goes everywhere with me. They matched the belt but the one they gave me wouldn’t fit so I had to try another three different belts before I got the right one. I was quite pleased for once because I normally get caught out by not having the right tools for the job. I had a lever and the correct spanners so I was able to fit the new fanbelt to the cab outside the shop in West Green Road, North London. As I started the engine the red light was still there. As Dick Dastardly would say, “Drat!! And double-drat!!!” Finally snapping and getting the hump with it all I floored the accelerator hoping to blow the fucking engine up. It wouldn’t blow up. Apparently these Nissan 2.7 engines will run without oil in them so I’d have a job trying to blow one up with oil in it. The red light did eventually go out so I would have needed the fanbelt anyway. The alternator problem would have to be addressed as and when it failed me. Which, as it happens, I didn’t have to wait too long for. I came out to work at around Midday today. As I turned the key………click, click, and nothing. I knew what had to be done. I drove my sons car over next to mine and jump started it with my leads and drove straight to the garage. It was like a morgue in there. No radios playing, no banter. Jim, the genial Irishman, was away on holiday so the owner was in the office. I told him the problem and he said that an alternator would have to be ordered and delivered. That’s a two to three hour wait straight away plus they were short-staffed and all the mechanics were busy so it would take even longer. I felt my blood pressure rising but tried to stay calm. I’d had Sunday off and was really looking to work for four or five hours this afternoon as I have a darts match tonight but it wasn’t looking too good. I settled down to wait in the office and was kept amused as various regular customers arrived with different problems only to be told that nobody was available to help them. Some of them took it badly and threatened to take there business elsewhere to which the owner could only shrug his shoulders and say “What can I do?” I spent a few hours in that office and had a very deep chat with the owner covering a multitude of topics and came away extremely enlightened on a few subjects. As I picked up the newly repaired cab the mechanic informed me that he’d stopped working on another cab especially to fix mine. I thought to my self “Bollocks did you, you did it because you know I’m a good tipper” and true to my word handed over a crisp five-pound note and drove out into the street. The battery was almost flat so it would need a run to charge it up.

It was now too late to go to work so I picked my son up and we drove up the road to buy dinner. He went in as I waited in the cab to keep it running. I eventually switched it off at home and fired it up straight away to test it and it seemed OK.
Hopefully it will be OK after a long cold night on the drive but in any case my son’s car is there for those sorts of emergencies

Confirmed. 12 Points.

2007-10-22T10:45:00.000+01:00

I think we’re going to have a cold next few months. If I can feel the cold then it must be true as I generally have a high threshold to it. The kids are always calling me a miser (or words to that effect) for not allowing the heating to be switched on and I always tell them to get an extra layer on. I also like to do my bit to help the environment and am always turning lights and switches off. Does that make me a miser? Anyways, I’ve just turned the heating on for the first time since last winter and it feels nice and warm now but it’s only staying on for half an hour or so as my thrifty senses are on full alert.

My Xeta system failed over the weekend and I was unable to do any work on it. The external GPS receiver cacked out so the PDA had no way of knowing what area I was in. I rang the technicians at Station Road in Tufnell Park but they obviously don’t work the weekends. I left a message on the answer phone and was woken up at 9am this morning by them with instructions on how to reset the GPS. I had to get in behind the glove box and pull a fuse out, wait a few minutes and replace the fuse. The GPS reset itself with ridiculous ease. It’s easy when you know how! Had I known this on Friday night I could have done some work on it. Still, I’ll know for next time. It also saves me a trip over there today and gives me a few more hours in bed.

I made it to the cab garage last Friday. It’s always painful parting with cab rent on a weekly basis so multiply that by three and imagine the agony I was in. I never hung about for any banter as I had stuff to do. One thing I did find out was that the camera that flashed me on Mile End Road (I was caught at 36mph in a 30 zone), whilst I was dealing with a female passenger who thought I’d missed her turning, did actually have film in it and that I am now (or will soon be) the proud owner of twelve penalty points and an impending 3 to 6 month driving ban. Lovely!! I’m still waiting for the paper work for the one that flashed me outside Holloway Womens Prison and until that arrives I am still on six points. I’ll try and string it out for a few months and hopefully some of my earlier points will have expired. One of the guys at the garage told me that in any case I probably wouldn’t receive a ban but I would be required to attend some sort of driving course. I should still contact my trade organisation, The LTDA (Licensed Taxi Drivers Association) as they offer free legal help to all members and could possibly save me a lot of grief.

Since I got my new Nokia n95 phone I have been using one of those bluetooth in-the-ear handsfree thingys that I despise (Motorola H700 £40 in the carphone Warehouse). It’s quite a sensitive bit of equipment and the main button, which is multi-functional, often depresses whilst the item is in my pocket, sending all sorts of commands to the phone. The thing it does the most is to activate the voice dialling, which then waits for you to speak. It interprets external noises and taxi vibrations as commands and then searches the phone for likely candidates. If you’re not paying attention you could go through the whole phone book and never know. Working mainly at night, the phone has been calling various people who have been answering from their beds, probably cursing me and then hanging up, all without my knowledge. I know for a fact that I did call my nephew’s phone in Mallorca at 2 in the morning as I saw the call in the log. (Sorry if I woke you guys up). So what I was leading up to was that I purchased another bluetooth from eBay, which works in a different way, and have now been waiting for several weeks. The seller has informed me that the delay is due to the recent postal strike but I have received other goods purchased much later. I think another message to him is now due. Another problem I have been having with the device is that it chafes the top of my ear so I have been removing it and storing it in the part of the cab door used to pull it shut. On several occasions whilst getting in and out of the cab it has fallen, without my knowledge, out of it’s space and either under my seat or out of the cab altogether and into the road. So I was sitting in outside Kebab Kid in New Kings Road last night (or early this morning at 12.30am) eating a large chicken shawarma and taramasalata and pondering my life when my phone rang. I automatically reached for the handsfree device in the door and found the space empty. I had moved the cab from outside the shop to a few yards away and automatically turned to look at where I had been parked. It was dark but I could just make out a dark bump on the tarmac and knew it was my bluetooth and if it hadn’t already been flattened by the cars on this busy road it soon would be. I jumped out of the cab with my kebab in hand and raced back the few yard to retrieve the device. By some miracle it was untouched. I think part of me was hoping that it had been flattened as I just haven’t been able to take to it and eagerly await the arrival of my new and better one from ebay.

(At this point my electric ran out and I thought I’d lost all that is written above. Phew!! Thank God for Windows XP. Win 98 would have wiped the lot)

On the work front, all is well. It’s simply a matter of getting in to the cab and driving away. Sometimes after dinner I go upstairs for a nap and never want to surface for work. A few days this week I have instructed the kids to nag me out to work and they have duly obliged. From 8pm onwards I get shouted at and insulted by them (all with my consent) until I eventually get up. Once out of the door there’s no problem but a few times I have been nagged from 8pm to 10pm and those two hours make a big difference in the takings.

On Saturday night England’s rugby team lost the World Cup Final to South Africa. I managed to sleep the whole way through it and never started work till 10pm. The centre of town was awash with jubilant South Africans and it was one of the most profitable four hours I’ve ever done. The last job of that particular night found me driving homewards through Camden Town. My light was off and I was just hoping for someone to approach me at the traffic lights and ask to go my way. A big built Aussie guy with a Ben Sherman short-sleeved shirt (I knew this as my son has an identical one) approached me and asked if I would take him to Shepherds Bush. It’s sort of over my way so I agreed but he wanted a price.
Him: How much you looking for mate?
Me: As much as I can get.
Him: I reckon twenty-five quid’ll do it.
It would probably go nearer to thirty but as I was finishing I didn’t mind.
Me: Ok mate but I want the money up front.
I’m getting good at asking for the money up front. For years I wouldn’t ask for it and some journeys have ended with the passengers doing a runner.
Him: Ok but I want to stop at a petrol station to get some phone credit so will that cover it?
Me: Yes.
Off we went. I found a garage in Wellington Road and he jumped out and joined the queue. He was one of these guys who can start a conversation with anyone. There were a couple of blonde chicks in the line ordering all sorts of food items and the attendant was running backwards and forwards getting all their stuff. The guy started talking to them and soon had them in fits of laughter. The whole process took much longer than anticipated and I was getting irate at being kept waiting on a fixed price. The guy was now talking to anyone and everyone and messing about with the six-packs of Evian water on the forecourt. In the end I honked the horn and shouted “Come on!!” “Keep your hair on mate” he said as he got back in the cab. “There’s no need to take the piss mate we’re on a fixed price here not the meter,” I growled. We were on our way again and he recharged his phone with the credit and proceeded to ring everyone he knew to talk about the rugby. From what I could hear he had wanted England to win, which I though unusual. The Aussies must have a bigger rivalry with the South Africans. He talked all the way to the Bush and had me drop him outside Belushi’s on the Green. I had put the meter on in Camden and it now read £36 so he’d gotten a bargain ride home. I must remember not to do that in future.

Check Back Soon

Summonsed!!

2007-10-16T05:15:00.001+01:00

Like another blogging cab driver, I can’t remember who, I’ve been summonsed to serve as a juror in a few months. I tried to think of a few excuses to get me out of doing it but couldn’t come up with anything solid so I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll just have to do it. I hope it’s all over quickly and that it’s a nothing trial but knowing my luck it’ll be something big involving intimidation of the jurors and possibly even death threats. God forbid!!

I’ve just been getting on with getting on with it these last few weeks. I’ve worked most nights since my last post and have just about caught up with everything that went to crap because of my holiday.

On the home front I have been trying to trap a mouse that recently shit the life out of me as it ran past my legs one night. Them fuckers really know how to hide. Anyway I set a fresh trap with a nice chunk of English Cheddar and guess what? I caught it. I took some photos for posterity and will just leave it so that anyone who wants to see them can click HERE and HERE and HERE. If you’re squeamish then don’t click.

My son Danny drove up to Birmingham in the Midlands with his cousins and a friend today to watch Monday Night WWE Raw. They were queuing in the line when Hacksaw Jim Duggan and a few others casually strolled past them prompting a reaction from the crowd.

I recently downloaded the last nine episodes of the Sopranos and have already watched five of them. The series has become quite dark now as it draws to an end and I know that some major players die soon, I’ll probably know who by tonight.

I hate rugby but I’ll be watching on Saturday night as England take on South Africa in the final of the Rugby World Cup in Paris. We are the current holders having won it four years ago thanks to our talisman Jonny Wilkinson who is also doing the business this time around.

I took the cab in to have the exhaust repaired the day after it snapped. The rent was due but I told them that I wasn’t able to earn it on account of the said problem and it was agreed I could go in the next day to pay the £200. That was on the 3rd of October and I haven’t been there since. I now owe £600 and have been screening all my phonecalls. What a way to live. I should have it all by end of duty on Tuesday night (tonight) and will be able to show my face on Wednesday.

My mate Chris finally got fitted for Xeta last Friday and has enjoyed a job home every night. He too likes to do the London Underground work and so far has finished his shift with jobs out to Carpenders Park, Harrow & Wealdstone and tonight finished with a job to Northolt.

I started my shift at 7.30 tonight and worked for seven straight hours. I had to fill up in the garage at Sainsbury’s at Ladbroke Grove as over the last few days part of Maida Vale has been closed off due to repairs after a burst water main.
I ended up at Notting Hill Gate and my first job took me down to Clapham North. After five more jobs I dropped off at Onslow Gardens and went to the Gloucester Road Starbucks for a Triple Venti Latte and a slice of Rocky Road. I drove round to the South Kensington Rank to consume my coffee and cake and who should pull in behind me but Old Titanic himself. We had a few moments together messing about with our PDA’s trying to get a lock on a wireless signal but could only manage to get the Pelham Hotel Homepage which is totally unexciting. Seconds later and I was off again, this time with two Scottish Lasses to the City Inn Hotel in John Islip Street, Westminster. As I pulled away after dropping them off the doorman from Shepherd’s Restaurant was out in the road looking for a cab. Five people got in and I took them down to The Goose pub in Clapham Park Road to continue their drinking binge. I made it all the way back to Victoria Station before I got another job and this time I was off to Whipps Cross in North East London. I was on the phone to Chris and we were discussing which would be the best way to do the journey. I opted for the Embankment, Angel, Dalston Lane, Lee Bridge Road to Whipps Cross while he said he would have driven along the Embankment all the way to the A12 and the Green Man Roundabout. No wonder I call him “Sad Route Bill” sometimes. I did ten more decent jobs after that one and decided to call it a night. As I was driving from Hyde Park Corner into Park Lane I saw a group of people with luggage waving at me. There were six of them each with a case and hand luggage. They asked if I could take six people and I told them it would be a tight squeeze. I managed to get all six people and all six cases plus their hand luggage into the cab and there wasn’t a cubic millimetre of space left as we crawled away from the pick up, the cab groaning and protesting until it had picked up speed. I took them to a hotel in Sussex Gardens and as I arrived a few of the local working girls looked curiously on. I drove round to Paddington Station but it was devoid of any work as it was already quite late. Even Caroline had gone home!! (I got out of the cab and had a chat with her a few nights ago so that’s how I now know her name)

Check back soon.

Wednesday Night Woes

2007-10-04T03:08:00.000+01:00

It’s been almost two weeks since I returned from Spain and I still haven’t really got back into the swing of it yet. I’ve had four or five half days, maybe even quarter days off and financially it’s starting to hurt.

My football team’s fantastic start to the season has also affected me by way of keeping me in until 10pm during the week on nights when we play and the game is broadcast via their website. Still, it’s a small sacrifice to see the boys doing so well, long may it continue.

I’ve had a few decent rides both cash and account. A guy asked me to take him to a destination near Brighton but when I quoted what I thought would be a fair price he shook his head and ran off. I was doing “bird” on the rank at Canary Wharf one day last week when my Xeta terminal offered me a job. Being in “Going Home” mode I was able to view the destination where normally you wouldn’t know where you were going until accepting the job. Instead of a name there was a postcode. Destination was DA17 and pickup was North Greenwich Station right next to the O2 Millenium Dome (pictured in a previous post). You only get 30 seconds to accept or decline and then the job goes to the next cab. Not having familiarized myself fully with all the suburban postcodes I never had a clue where DA17 could possibly be and got it excitedly in to my head that DA was the code for Datchet near Windsor. A very nice ride to a very nice part of the country. The bleeper was counting down the seconds and I knew I only had seconds left to make my mind up. I hit the ACCEPT button and started scrolling through the job details. Chris was on the phone to me at the time and we were running through all the possibilities of where I would be heading. All of a sudden my heart sank, as the written destination appeared further down the page. So much for Datchet. The destination was Belvedere in Kent, completely the opposite direction to where I wanted to go and I had to drive a good few miles to the pickup. The DA stood for Dartford. I pulled off the rank at Canary Wharf and made my way towards the Blackwall Tunnel. There was some sort of night works going on (when is there never?) and the traffic was backed up. I’d started with 40 minutes to get to the destination and had just about used them all up by the time I arrived at North Greenwich. The meter can only show £4 by the booked time so for 35 minutes I wasn’t earning any money. To cut a long story short the passenger wasn’t there as she was en route in another taxi. After a few calls backwards and forwards she arrived forty minutes late and I got her to Belvedere safely but then found myself dead in the water with no chance of a fare back to town. I made a mental note to write down all the relevant postcodes and have them handy the next time my terminal throws me a job with only the postcode.

I could possibly be out of a job in the next few weeks. Having recently received another three points on my license making it 9 now I have been taking extra care to watch my speed and not to jump red light. But whilst working last night a passenger complaining that I had missed her turning distracted me. Because I was dealing with the complaint I wasn’t watching my speed. I had picked her up in Commercial Road and was told to take her to Bow Quarter, a gated community in East London. Whilst driving along Mile End Road she suddenly pipes up. I was talking to Chris at the time so I missed her first words. She started flapping so I opened the partition and said “What’s up?” “You’ve missed the turning,” she informs me. We were still about a mile from her destination so I started cajoling her.
Me: “Are you sure about that?”
Her: “yes, you’ve driven past it”
Me: “I don’t think so”
Her: “Yes look I wanted that road there”
Me: “You want Bow Quarter right?
Her: “Yes”
Me: “Well we haven’t even gone past Mile End Station yet”
A quizzical look came over her as she tried ascertaining through her intoxicated haze just where the hell she was. Realizing she’d made a mistake she let me get on with my job and said no more, not even sorry. With my mind on thinking of something more to say I was brought back to the present with a FLASH followed by another FLASH. “Fuck it” I hissed into the phone to Chris who’d heard the whole conversation. “It’s all over, I just got double-flashed again” “Sad” he sympathized with me. We’ll just have to wait and see.

With each shift I get a bit more into the swing. I bought a Nokia N95 on ebay yesterday and paid with Paypal. That basically means I have three to four days to find the money so with that in mind I started nice and early this evening. I needed diesel so I drove over to Sainsbury’s in Ladbroke Grove to put £20 worth in the tank. From there I made it all the way to Kensington Church Street before I trapped my first job down to Flood Street in Chelsea. I nice little flurry of jobs ensued after that. Six jobs back to back bringing me nicely up to mealtime at the Royal Oak Taxi Center with Chris. I had my usual, a nice plate of Spaghetti Bolognese and a bowl of Parmesan Cheese. I’ve always loved lot’s of Parmesan on my pasta and have been known to carry my own personal supply just in case some of these establishments don’t have any, and many don’t, which I think is sacrilege.

Once fed and watered we both drove down to Paddington Station to queue for our next job. For the last few months there has been a lady who sits at the head of the rank on a little ledge. If you’re unlucky enough to catch her eye she’ll tell you her whole life story or whatever she’s been doing on any particular day. I got caught for the first time quite a few months ago and had to endure a 15 minute ear bashing as there were no passengers. Now I always keep my window shut and look the other way while she desperately tries to get my attention. She’s there almost every night. Does anybody know what her story is?

"Edit: Caroline"

There’s also a new guy there who seems to be there at all hours. Chris and me have named him “James Brown” on account of his snazzy attire. He directs the passengers to the appropriate taxi when the marshals have finished work at 10pm. He was there a few nights ago and I sneaked a picture of him with his shoes off rubbing his feet.

"James Brown"

She was also there and I took one of "her" on her phone. We’ll have to think up a suitable name for her too.(Since found out she's called Caroline.)

The last job (I hadn’t planned on it being the last job) of the night found me on the Wilton Road feeder rank to Victoria Station. My old mate the beggar was there. I hadn’t seen him for a few weeks and nearly never recognized him as he had a new coat. He must be doing OK. As per usual he avoided me and went to the cab behind who also ignored him. After 5 minutes I was on point and a middle aged American and two ladies walked up to me.

Him: We wanna go to 67 Belgrave Road, The Sydney Hotel. It’s just around the corner and shouldn’t be much.
Me: OK (wincing at the shittiness of the job and turning the meter on)
Him: (Having opened the cab door and seen the meter on the £2.20 flagfall) £2.20? Why is it £2.20? Why not zero?
Me: Because it’s £2.20
Him: But why?
Me: Are we gonna have an argument about it? If the hotel is just around the corner why don’t you walk?
Him: I just might do that.
Me: Well it’s no skin off my nose mate.
Him: Yeah well I still wanna know why it’s £2.20 and not zero.
Me: Is it zero when you get into a cab in New York or is there a minimum?
Him: Yeah it’s zero.
Me: Bollocks is it. It’s at least $1.40 (am I right anyone?)
I did some more explaining and he slammed the door and I could see him talking to the cab behind.
Another guy approached me and asked for a road in Peckham. For me it was still another shit job but as I was on the point of the rank it was a job that can’t be refused. As I drove out of the station and crossed in to Vauxhall Bridge Road I thought I could hear something scraping under the cab. Not completely sure it was my cab and not one of the other vehicles around me I continued. After all the surrounding cars had driven ahead I could still hear it so knew I had a problem. I continued on my way and managed to get the guy to his house. Once clear I pulled over and had a look under the cab and my worst fears were confirmed. The exhaust had snapped and was hanging down scraping on the road. It always happens when you’re miles from home doesn’t it? Nothing for it but to get under the cab and try to separate the broken bit . I had a few tools in the boot and also a can of WD40 lubricant, which I sprayed all over the rubber bungs. It came away with a little effort and I put it in the back of the cab and made my way home.

The Front Part

The Bit That Broke

Just when I was getting into my shift that goes and happens, what a bummer. So now I will be forced to go to the garage tomorrow and get it fixed. There’s no way I’m paying the £200 rent that’s due and hopefully some sort of re-imbursement for my lost nights work will be forthcoming. But I won’t hold my breath ay?

Check back soon.

I'm a back.

2007-09-25T00:48:00.000+01:00

Well folks, I’m back – refreshed and raring to go. Not.
My last work night was Sunday the 9th of September and I had to leave the cab at the garage. Chris of Titanic Struggles had been working the same shift and agreed to meet me there and take me home to get my luggage and then drop me off at my parents house in Harrow.
I emptied the cab of serious amounts of crap that had accumulated over the last year and finally I put the front of the radio-cassette together with the keys into an envelope and posted it through the letterbox. As we were driving away I realized I hadn’t removed one final thing from the arm-rest compartment – my wallet, with about £500 inside. I could have cried. Worst-case scenario was that the window would be broken and left overnight and I would inform the garage by phone. Before I did that I went back to the letterbox and stuck my hand inside. To my amazement and joy the envelope hadn’t gone to the bottom and I managed to pull it out – almost ripping it. Drama over and I finally came to terms that I was on holiday.

To spare you all the boring details let’s just say that the holiday went well and I did plenty of relaxing, drinking, eating, driving and seeing friends and family.
There is one incident of note, which I will tell you about. Two days after arriving I set out in my hired Ford Fiesta to find a pub that would be showing the England v Russia game live. I found quite a few places and settled for a place on the outskirts of Torrevieja. It was a small community called Chaparral and the bar was called Boz’s bar. Now I’m not a big drinker any more on account of driving for a living. But I have been known to let my hair down (metaphorically – as I have none) from time to time. I started drinking pints of San Miguel and by the end of the game, which England won, I was rat-arsed. I was getting concerned calls from my kids pleading with me not to drive the car back to where I was staying with my Mum. I remember very little of these conversations and have since been told that I was talking pure bollocks down the phone. I remember even less leaving the bar and getting in to the car and flaking out. Being a left-hand drive car I must have thought I was back in London as I got into the right hand side and promptly nodded off with the door wide open and my phone on the dash for anyone to steal. All I remember is someone shaking me and telling me in Spanish that I had been there for two hours and was in danger of getting caught by the police. So, probably still way over the legal limit, I drove the few miles home, the streets were empty as it was almost 2am and then had to endure the wrath of my Mum who was worried sick. All in all a very stupid thing to do but I think I can be allowed one stupid act every ten years don’t you think?
The flight back to England was delayed an hour and my son, who was picking us up got lost on the M1 whilst we waited in the freezing cold for him to collect us.

The following morning I had to collect my cab and waited on my street for a Licensed Taxi to drive along. After twenty minutes of waiting I got fed up and walked the few hundred yards to the nearest miniscab office and was picked up immediately and transported to my destination by a very talkative Somalian guy at a cost of £12.

The cab was waiting for me as I entered the garage but so was a nasty surprise. Jim, the genial Irishman, informed me that I had been photographed running a red light in Parkhurst Road and that another three penalty points would be added to my license, making it nine points in total. Only three more to go for a six-month ban and loss of my livelihood – I’m really going to have to take care now. I paid them £90 for three days rental and drove home. I never came out later on as there were a million and one things that needed doing at home but over the next two nights I managed to earn the best part of a double-bottle.

Whilst driving up St. James’s Street yesterday evening the doorman of Le Caprice was out there looking for a cab for one of the punters. When the guy got in he asked me for the private terminal at Gatwick. Welcome home London Cabby. Chris was on the phone to me at the time and was quite gutted at my luck, as his evening wasn’t going fantastically well. Once down at Gatwick it took a while to find his destination as I only ever take regular passengers to the North and South terminals. I opted for the South Terminal turn off and guess what? It was the wrong one. We got stuck in solid traffic, which added at least a fiver to the already high meter. His terminal was nearer to the North Terminal and as we arrived his pilot was there to greet him and almost bowed at him as if he was royalty. The fare was £101 exactly and he gave me six twenties and waited for the change. I gave him one of the twenties back as I couldn’t be arsed to give all my change away and he just shrugged and walked off.

I only did a few jobs tonight as one of them went straight past my front door and I couldn’t resist the urge to go in. It’ll still be there for me tomorrow, and the next day.

Be Lucky.

Check back soon.

Four More Days to Go

2007-09-06T04:17:00.001+01:00

As the countdown to my ten days in Spain continues there has been a flurry of activity on the home front.

My Dad had an appointment at the Hammersmith Hospital today and I had to drive him over there from Harrow. He’d made a remark about being short of breath to a nurse and the next thing he knows is he’s having blood tests, chest x-rays, heart x-rays, ECG’s the works. He’ll get the results in 8 weeks.

My daughter went back to school today. She recently passed all he GCSE’s and decided to study for another year.

My eldest son starts a new job on Monday. It’s an IT based job at a well-known diamond company in central London.

And finally, wait for it, (drum roll and fanfare of trumpets), my other son Michael starts a job, also on Monday. After months of bad luck he has finally used some family influence to secure a post in the warehouse section of a superstore. It’s only temporary for three months but it may lead to something else.

I have been galvanized into action after working out what I will need to put by whilst I’m away. I’m about a week short of reaching my target so a few bills will have to be held back until I return. And I’m sorting out a “rubber dub dub” from a friend of mine who’s offered to help out, ain’tcha Golden Bollocks eXtraordinaire?

I started later today on account of the early start to take my Dad to the hospital. After I got home I had a few more hours sleep and started at around nine-ish. My Orange mobile signal was non-existent and I came back home to get a spare phone and check online if there were any problems with the network. Did anyone else have trouble with Orange on Wednesday evening?

Work was steady and there were only a few twats to report on.

An elderly European twat, I mean lady, from Mayfair to Sussex Gdns via Queensway to drop someone off. The1st passenger gets out and I head for the next drop. I work my way round to Craven Road and decide to take the right into Gloucester Terrace. Then all hell breaks loose in the back.

“What are you doing, this is wrong, this is not fair?” She pipes up screaming and banging on some part of the interior. I think to myself “Oh fuck, we’ve got one”

It’s what I call a nothing decision. You can get to the same destination by going one way or the other and it costs the same.
I remain calm whilst she’s going doolaly.
“I’m not a tourist, I’ve lived in London for twenty years and what you’re doing is wrong.” She continues ranting. I try and explain to her that one way is as good as the other but she seems intent of making an issue out of it.
She’s getting her knickers in a twist for absolutely nothing. It’s actually quite comical.
“Madam……Madam……..Madam” I try and get a word in but she completely gone. Time to switch personalities a little.
“Madam!!!” I scream out. Anyone passing would have to wonder what the hell was going on inside the cab. I seem to have got through to her and she stops to hear me out. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Just calm down, relax yourself, you’ll be home in seconds”. And literally seconds afterwards we arrive at her house. You’ll notice that I never swore at her because inspite of all that was going on I could still see that she was a “Lady”. It did the trick and she did indeed calm down and stated that she was tired and had been on the go all day but I still told her off for unjustifiably “losing it” with me. She apologized and tipped a pound extra and that was that.

Towards the end of the shift I found that I was stuck on £20 short of my target so decided to try my luck on the South Kensington rank. The nightclub, Boujis, located about 50 meters away, was open for business and there were lots of nice people milling about. What do I get? Twat number two. A drunk mess who wants Earls Court, not a fantastic ride at the best of times. Then he says he needs to go via a food outlet. Then he tries to make conversation with me but I’m not really in the mood for his drunken ramblings. He’s younger than me by a good few years yet he talks like an old Etonian.

Him: “So Old Boy, how’s you’re night been?”
Me: “Not great, if the truth be told”
Him: “Splendid, splendid” he’s obviously misheard me.
Me: “What d’you want to eat, there’s a McDonalds in Earls Court Road we can stop at”
Him: “No, no, no. I don’t eat that shite. I want something completely unhealthy like a kebab”

There was a kebab shop at the top of Earls Court road and we stopped there. He got out and paid me. As I gave him the change he said, “Well bowled Old Boy” and waved me off. Strange one that.

I drove down the remainder of the road and headed towards Gloucester Road where I knew Opal would probably yield one last job. It did and it was going to, of all places, my street, only he was in the posh bit. We had an interesting conversation about advertising (I can talk bollocks with the best of them if it means getting a good tip) and he had lots of ideas he was trying to sell to various agencies. I wished him luck and headed back towards the Tesco on Sutherland Avenue to get my daughter her lunch for school later on today.

Only four more working days to go. I’ll start packing in a few days and leaving things as prepared as they can be for my lot here to get through the 11 days without me. I may well make one final post before I go so keep checking. If it’s not there by Sunday night then it won’t be there until I return sometime after September the 21st.

Be Lucky.

The Nose Revisited

2007-09-01T04:42:00.000+01:00

It was still light as I passed under the Admiralty Arch this evening so I took the opportunity to photograph "The Nose". It really is a nose isn't it? I'd love to know the story behind it so if anyone knows more than the article in Wikipedia then please feel free to share. For best results click on each picture and magnify them.

Admiralty Arch Today

The Nose View 1

The Nose View 2

Work was pretty brisk tonight after a slow start. Once again my mate Chris had a blinder whilst I was a good 30 - 35% behind him. We stopped for a coffee at Marylebone Station around 10.30 to compare notes and then we both drove onto the rank and within minutes we both had jobs to (him) Swiss Cottage and Gospel Oak (me).

The entire evening was pretty uneventful except for when I picked up a scruffy young man from the bus stop in Rosebery Avenue. He asked to go to Putney and promptly nodded off. All the way there I was telling myself that I should've asked for money up front and was getting all worked up. I was convinced that I was about to get knocked (not paid) and I even rang Chris so that he could witness the knocking, albeit via the telephone. I decided to wake him by shouting at the top of my voice under the pre-text of asking him if he might need a cashpoint enroute. It took a few loud shouts to wake him and I then asked him if we needed to stop at a cashpoint. He said he was OK for money and the manner with which he said it put me a little more at ease. Once we arrived in his street he pulled out a wallet stuffed with every kind of note. He was about to offer me a fifty and then changed his mind for two twenties instead. The fare was £31.20 and that's all I got but I was happy to get paid at all. All I can say is never judge a book by it's cover.......but we do don't we?

My last job took me out to Richmond and then I made my way home via a Tesco Express to buy a few bits for the kids.

Well it's now September the first and I go away on the tenth so only nine days to go and I've got a hell of a lot to do before then.

Check back soon.