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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I live in Malta,so unless you drive or catch the 'late' bus home from the pubs (which leave at 1:30am latest), you have to get a taxi. In Paceville (the entertainment 'hub' of the island), there are two cab companies. Wembleys or Freephone.
My most bizarre experiences have been with Wembley. If you live in an out of the way area, like Tarxien or Mgarr you have to wait an average of about 20 minutes before enough people are going in your direction, then they fill up the cab or mini-van and bobs your sisters brother. Sometime in June last year I was waiting in one of these white vans which gradually filled up and got going. The driver turned to ask everyone where they wanted to go and we set off. No seat belts, at break-neck speed. Maltese roads being what they are you risk chafing your skull against the roof. I sat up front with the driver who started up a conversation with me. When he found out I was english he made sure he dropped me off last, and spent almost an hour trying to have a conversation with me about computer aviation simulators, about which I know fuck all. I was pissed, sorry Vince.
Last week got a cab home with Freephone. Waited in line with a bunch of Arab types. One of them was really pissed up and sat next to me. "Oh fuck," i thought, "He's going to puke" and sure enough, as the mini-van eased its way spasmodically forewards onto our potholed roads and jumped and bounced its way all the way up regional road, old mohammed started to groan. But then he put his hands to his mouth and nothing, no hurling! I was amazed at his self control. Anyway, when the spunt got out of the van he did a runner (you have to pay before you get it, so its not a big deal) thats when I discovered the sneaky bastard *had* been sick and just managed to do it in complete silence.
Stealth vomiting!
(, Thu 27 May 2004, 14:59, Reply)
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