Fake Cabbie

Well I’m still not totally sure but it seems tonight I was picked up by a male person driving a taxi, who wasn’t actually a licenced and registered taxi driver. This person even explained the whole thing to me. He met a friend a legit cabbie it seems at his house and the cabbie wanted a drink. Our moonlighting friend declined and instead decided to make a few dollars on the side by driving his mates cab. From what I could see in the darkened interior of the taxi the id card on display didn’t match his face. But it was the fact he didn’t run the meter that initially raised my suspicions. I let them know at base when I booked the cab that I was a driver and the had obviously included that information on the job details as he asked me if I was heading to or from work when I got in. When we got to my destination I expected him to say something about forgetting the meter but he just said the fare was on him and don’t worry about it. Given my suspicions I didn’t complain and hopped out and went about my business.

Had he been the real thing I would have given him $10 even after the kind offer of a freebie as we all have to make a buck and he had done me a favour.

UPDATE: I just contacted the base supervisor and asked if my job had been picked up by the driver who accepted it thinking he might have rejected the fare or called a no-job but no he had run the meter to indicate pickup just not while I was in the cab …. Weird if you ask me!!

You ran over my feet

That last post reminded me of another sunday night down at the Obie.

I had picked up and was trying to make my way through the throng of people inch by inch tapping the horn as I went as they were really tightly gathered around the whole car. Finally I got through and pulled onto the road wating for a gap as I needed to make a u-turn.

Anyway before I got the gap a guy comes running up to my open window and shouts at me “You just ran over my f***ing feet!” To which I replyed “Well obviously your feet are alright, after all you just ran down here to tell me!”

Stereotypes

I’ve never really put much thought into stereotypes. That is until one Sunday night probably 6 or 7 years ago. Back then I used to work the Sunday session around Cottesloe, mainly from the Obie (Ocean Beach Hotel). Now the routine was fairly simple. The session would wind down around 9pm at the Obie and the crowd would gather outside before moving on to Claremont and Club BayView a short trip of just $6. Liquor licenses on Sundays in Perth back then ran out at midnight so time was limited both for the punters wanting a skin full and the cabbies wanting to fatten the pocket. So once you’d dropped at ‘Club’ it was straight back to the Obie for hopefully the next car load.

What has that got to do with stereotypes you ask? Well 1 Sunday night I got stuck behind a slow driver. Nothing unusual about that I agree but the problem was that over 50% of the trip was on a tight single lane each way road with 2 roundabouts and several speed humps. In other words a road with absolutely nowhere to pass. This particular driver however must have bagged every stereotype ever thought up for slow and/or annoying drivers.

I was behind a Volvo Estate (station wagon), with country plates. Driven by a female driver (no flames please), wearing a hat with kids moving unrestrained around the back and she was driving at 30km/h basically half the legal speed limit. I mean imagine every joke you’ve ever heard about driving and I was looking at it.

Thankfully she turned left where I turned right and I never saw her again

Road rage

I’m not ashamed to admit it. I was scared. Not wetting my pants, crying like a baby scared, but hair standing up on my neck, got my attention, knot in my stomach kind of scared.

I made a right turn in front of a 4-wheel drive on the way home for a coffee break Sunday night. Okay I didn’t have heaps of room but I gave it a boot full (read accelerated with purpose) around the corner and I’m fairly certain the 4wd didn’t have to slow down in the slightest as a result. That didn’t bother him though as he flashed me several times with his 100watt spotties. I gave him the finger and he drew closer almost to the point of hitting me.

I wasn’t intimidated by his carry on at this stage as this is something which I have experienced several times during the 11yrs I've driven a cab. I just slowed down a bit making sure to stay right on the speed limit.

After about a minute he backed off and I thought maybe he had enough. Just the same I didn’t indicate my intention to take the next left just in case and turned at the last moment. Thats when I realised he was either really pissed off or just wired wrong in the head as he stopped in the middle of the intersection before turning the corner and speeding after me.

The first road had been single lanes both ways but now we were on a dual lane road and he was coming up alongside me or at least thats what he thought. In the past cars have passed me then moved over in front of me and slammed the brakes on. Not wanting to be part of his crazy game I waited till he was just passing me and hit the brakes hard. He went sailing past and stopped about 25-30meters further down at which point I did a u-turn and headed back the other way hoping he would get tired of it all and leave me alone.

He didn’t. That was the point I got scared. It’s one thing to flash your lights at someone or tailgate them to scare them a little, even brake testing someone is pretty much nothing to get excited about provided your expecting it which I was. It’s when the other guy changes direction twice determined to follow you and exact some revenge that things get a little too exciting for me.

I wondered just how far this guy was prepared to go. I was also faced with a choice. Less than 1km from where I was was a highway should I head out there and use the power of the engine to out run this moron, the downside being it’s out of the way and if anything happened I would be on my own or should I turn left through the intersection again and head through the suburbs.

I decided on suburbia and once on the side road noticed it was also dual lane and thankfully it had some traffic. I took the right lane, found a gap, put the boot into it and pasted around 8 or so cars before pulling back into the left lane and slowing back to the speed limit. At the next set of lights I took the left, glancing in the mirrors the whole time. Mr Psycho stopped part way into the intersection and waited maybe 10 or 15 seconds before carrying on to wherever crazy individuals like him go.

I continued on my way home, checking the mirrors the whole way. Almost expecting him to pop up behind me like some cheap horror movie and start at me again. I made my coffee when I got home and sat down to watch Rocky IV on the TV.

I can tell you, it was at least a quarter hour after I got home before I stopped shaking.