One night a group of us taxi drivers were spinning a few yarns at the Airport. The boys were loving my stories but Greg in TX555 topped it all off with his story. Greg is an interesting guy, he subsidises his taxi income by speculating on the stock market and he is pretty successful. He drives an Audi A4 2002 model and I take great joy in pissing on it when I get the chance! Just kidding.
Greg had been working the Sunday double shift, starting at 4am in the morning and was due to finish at 12am. It was 11pm and Greg was out at the Airport, he had had a shit day at the office and made next to no money at all. The last flight was down at 12.30am and Greg decided to stay on despite the fact that he was feeling real tired. He decided to go buy a red bull from a nearby service station to give himself some wings for his final fare.
The plane touched down at 12.45am and by the time the passengers had got off the plane it was 1.00am before Greg finally got his fare. Greg was relieved when the passenger asked to be driven out to the outer suburbs.
Greg was feeling real tired during the fare; the red bull was beginning to lose its effect. As he approached a roundabout, he fell into a microsleep, launched over the roundabout, taking out a sign with him along the way, and was jolted back to consciousness as he came back down the other side of the roundabout. Greg retook control of the taxi and looked at the passenger. The passenger had turned white and shouted at Greg, "Let me out of the taxi!"
Greg pulled over and let the passenger out. The passenger got out of the taxi and started walking off. Greg stayed where he was for 30 seconds trying to fathom what had happened, then he realised that the passenger had left his luggage in the taxi. He drove after the passenger who was walking along the street and put the window down and called out to the passenger "Hey mate, come here."
The passenger took one look at Greg and started running, shouting at the top of his voice "He's trying to kill me! he's trying to kill me!"
Greg didn't know what to do next but decided to go home and put the suitcase with the items on ebay. He did this and made $50 which he invested in mining shares, Poisedon Mark II.
Reminds me of the foreign passenger I picked up on night in Civic. He had a bit of paper with "Formule 1" on it, the budget hotel on the highway out at Watson.
ReplyDeleteOff we went.
Without thinking, I took the back way along Majura Street and Antill. As we left Watson behind and the houses gave way to gum trees, he became more and more agitated.
"Just a little further," I kept telling him as we passed the Prime TV studios.
But it looked like the endo of the world in those days. Nothing but a single lane road and bush and kangaroos.
He looked at me.
"Just a little further," I said.
He looked at the road ahead. No street lights. No nothing.
"No. Let me out!"
"Just a little further…"
He was having none of it. He was certain that I was taking him out into the boondocks to rob and ravish him. I could see the fear in his eyes, and I felt for the poor bloke, but he was insistent, and I had no option. If I kept driving he would do something silly.
Like try to kill me before I got him.
So I stopped the cab, he paid the fare, I left him there in the dark with his bag.
I guess he walked back and knocked on the TV studio door and they told him where Formule 1 was and he felt silly. Or maybe he just went back into Civic, found a place to stay, and told the story ever after how he'd escaped the clutches of the demon cabbie from hell.