Mini Cabs From Hell
We'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]
( , Wed 26 May 2004, 21:44)
We'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]
( , Wed 26 May 2004, 21:44)
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An Iranian Chap'd be to blame for this one
It'd been a big night out, and in black-cab fares I was about £20 away from my home. Off our collective tits my friends and I got a night bus half-way to my house where we all dispersed. A minicab promptly arrived after a swift drunken phonecall driven by a pleasant Iranian chap whose English was questionable at best.
I slurred my way through asking for '[my road], Halewood please', a location about 15 minutes drive away at a black-cab cost of £8 or so. After a multitude of wrong-turns and a near-miss with a stationary car I arrived at what the driver assumed was my intended destination; Liverpool John Lennon Airport. Despite having a radically different number of syllables to my actual destination I thought 'fuck it' and made like everything was OK. "£15" he said optimistically. I'm not sure how he translated "My arse", he seemed less than impressed with the fiver he received before stumbling out trying to find the entrance to the terminal building.
An hour and a cocking half walk later, across two fields and several A-Roads and a dead fox I arrive home; dawn breaking, family up and about getting ready for school and work and whatnot. The bastard.
( , Thu 27 May 2004, 12:39, Reply)
It'd been a big night out, and in black-cab fares I was about £20 away from my home. Off our collective tits my friends and I got a night bus half-way to my house where we all dispersed. A minicab promptly arrived after a swift drunken phonecall driven by a pleasant Iranian chap whose English was questionable at best.
I slurred my way through asking for '[my road], Halewood please', a location about 15 minutes drive away at a black-cab cost of £8 or so. After a multitude of wrong-turns and a near-miss with a stationary car I arrived at what the driver assumed was my intended destination; Liverpool John Lennon Airport. Despite having a radically different number of syllables to my actual destination I thought 'fuck it' and made like everything was OK. "£15" he said optimistically. I'm not sure how he translated "My arse", he seemed less than impressed with the fiver he received before stumbling out trying to find the entrance to the terminal building.
An hour and a cocking half walk later, across two fields and several A-Roads and a dead fox I arrive home; dawn breaking, family up and about getting ready for school and work and whatnot. The bastard.
( , Thu 27 May 2004, 12:39, Reply)
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