Public Transport Trauma
Completely Underwhelmed writes, "I was on a bus the other day when a man got on wearing shorts, over what looked like greeny grey leggings. Then the stench hit me. The 'leggings' were a mass of open wounds, crusted with greenish solidified pus that flaked off in bits as he moved."
What's the worst public transport experience you've ever had?
( , Thu 29 May 2008, 15:13)
Completely Underwhelmed writes, "I was on a bus the other day when a man got on wearing shorts, over what looked like greeny grey leggings. Then the stench hit me. The 'leggings' were a mass of open wounds, crusted with greenish solidified pus that flaked off in bits as he moved."
What's the worst public transport experience you've ever had?
( , Thu 29 May 2008, 15:13)
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Is a Taxi public enough?
I have the greatest of respect for taxi drivers - I couldn't do their job, especially on the weekend nights.
However, there are always the bad apples in any job. I just seem to occasionally pick the wrong taxi.
Many years ago, London. En route home from Milan, landed late at night at Gatwick. Got the express to Victoria, out into the London night. It was pissing down. We had a hotel booked, but not the faintest idea where it was. So we jumped into a taxi, gave the driver our destination. As you do.
We were subjected to the most vicious barrage of abuse because where we were going was "ten minutes' walk" away. It was late, it was raining and we hadn't the foggiest where to go. I told the driver in no uncertain terms that I'd make a complaint to the Licensing Office if he didn't shut up and drive. He proceeded to chuck the taxi around like it was a rally car, and braked with enough ferocity to make a squealing noise. When we arrived at the hotel a few minutes later, we made sure that he got the exact fare. Not a penny more, not a penny less. The first time in my life I haven't tipped a taxi driver.
More recently, Edinburgh. Friday night, after a works' party in one of the better hotels. Can't face trying to find a taxi, so I ask the hotel concierge to get one. Which he does. All is good, until I get in the taxi. The driver asked for a destination and set off. The long way. I pointed this out, and told him to get back on the normal route quick smart. He was not chuffed. We then had a repeat of the rally-style school of taxi driving, and, you guessed it, a repeat of the "I'll be buggered if you're getting a tip mate" scenario.
As a contrast, I've had drivers helping me in and out with the buggy, offering help inside with shopping and one who should have been on stage at the comedy club. I was tempted to ask that guy to go the long way around, it was like a personal audience with Billy Connolly.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 18:58, Reply)
I have the greatest of respect for taxi drivers - I couldn't do their job, especially on the weekend nights.
However, there are always the bad apples in any job. I just seem to occasionally pick the wrong taxi.
Many years ago, London. En route home from Milan, landed late at night at Gatwick. Got the express to Victoria, out into the London night. It was pissing down. We had a hotel booked, but not the faintest idea where it was. So we jumped into a taxi, gave the driver our destination. As you do.
We were subjected to the most vicious barrage of abuse because where we were going was "ten minutes' walk" away. It was late, it was raining and we hadn't the foggiest where to go. I told the driver in no uncertain terms that I'd make a complaint to the Licensing Office if he didn't shut up and drive. He proceeded to chuck the taxi around like it was a rally car, and braked with enough ferocity to make a squealing noise. When we arrived at the hotel a few minutes later, we made sure that he got the exact fare. Not a penny more, not a penny less. The first time in my life I haven't tipped a taxi driver.
More recently, Edinburgh. Friday night, after a works' party in one of the better hotels. Can't face trying to find a taxi, so I ask the hotel concierge to get one. Which he does. All is good, until I get in the taxi. The driver asked for a destination and set off. The long way. I pointed this out, and told him to get back on the normal route quick smart. He was not chuffed. We then had a repeat of the rally-style school of taxi driving, and, you guessed it, a repeat of the "I'll be buggered if you're getting a tip mate" scenario.
As a contrast, I've had drivers helping me in and out with the buggy, offering help inside with shopping and one who should have been on stage at the comedy club. I was tempted to ask that guy to go the long way around, it was like a personal audience with Billy Connolly.
( , Tue 3 Jun 2008, 18:58, Reply)
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