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]
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rob, Wed 26 May 2004, 21:44)
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There's a cabbie round here who swears he's psychic...You get in, you just want to get the ride, and the stench, over with but the bastard won't leave you alone.
"Think of a number between one and ten," is his usual starter. He then tells me it's 7. It's not. I usually pick Pi just to piss people like that off.
He swears he can tell you everything about you using his "gift". He hasn't got one. No one has. It's just a rather clumsy mix of cold and warm reading, just like you see on the telly when a "psychic" contacts someone "with a B, or is it a P, perhaps a G, could it be a D?" in their name.
The thing is, cold reading is my party trick. He nearly shit himself when I told him he used to be a teacher.
Fucking moron.
(, Thu 27 May 2004, 14:26, Reply)
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