Mini Cabs From HellWe've all taken a dodgy cab in our time. One guy asked me to give him a back-rub in exchange for letting me off the fare. I was like, "here's the cash mate." Another chappy claimed to be Paddy Patel - a child actor from UK TV series Tuckers Luck - he drove like a speed freak and regaled me with stories that "playing a black Irish boy. England wasn't ready for it." So go on - tell us your worst and we'll tell the world.
[edit: for those confused by the term mini-cab, London has two sorts of taxis: highly regulated, licensed and salt-of-the-earth black cabs that you see in films and a whole bunch of unlicensed, uninsured, random cars driven by nutters who aren't supposed to pick up from the street (you have to phone for them). They are universally rubbish]
(
rob, Wed 26 May 2004, 21:44)
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Rotten cabbageGetting a cab home in Dublin one night after a solid drinking sesion. Its about 6am and the only cabbies left on the road are pure deviants and drunkards.
I recieved the latter. It was quite obvious he was drunk, because he told me so and, needlessly, pointed to the an empty bottle of gin to emphasize the point.
Being as late as it was I knew my chances of getting another cab were slim, so I buckled up and remained in the "brace for impact" position.
About a mile from my house there was a terrible noise, the car veered across the road and sparks began to fly around the car. I saw the front left wheel bouncing merrily down the road in front off us. Cabbie seemed perfectly unfazed or unaware of events and attempted to drive on. I was struck dumb with shock/fear. The car, sparks flying and screaming like a banshee,lurched into a ditch on the side of the road. Eventually, having a moment of clarity, cabbie gets out to see whats wrong. He studies the mangled wreckage of the front of his car, scratching his head and furrowing his brow, in a vain attept to comprehend the situation. Then he has a master stroke! He whips his cock out and pisses on the damaged area. Probably believing his unrine contained some form of magical tonic.
I got out of the car a feigned concern for a minute, stroking my chin and kicking the axle in a knowledgable way. Then he started to cry. Sensing my opportunity, I began to back away slowly, then sprited like the wind all the way home.
Lying in bed that night I swear I could still hear his gentle sobbing.
(, Thu 27 May 2004, 11:30, Reply)
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