So, there I am; standing in the main entrance to Guys Hospital just before 8pm wanting to get to Paddington to catch the 20:35 so that I can get Young Nick back home to the care of his Mummy. On the main desk is a box of cards for a trusted taxi service. I phone them, the tell wait there and a taxi will arrive. So, I stand there, young Nick sitting looking as though he’d been through the wars, and in a way, he had. Then, in come a nice jolly caribbean man on the phone trying to get hold of his fare but saying that the number he’d been given was wrong. Quickly, his Podgeness sees the problem and make the nice caribbean man aware of the need to get to Paddington before the train leaves. If we missed the train, the next one was the little baby trains which ‘aint much better than cattle trucks.
Don’t worry says the nice caribbean man, I’ll get you there in plenty of time. So we bundle into his car and off we go.
First clue to something not quire right was when he turned south instead of heading over the river and north towards Paddington.
Second clue was when the trusted taxi company phoned to say that my taxi was outside. No, I said, I’m in your taxi now.
Third clue, long pause at the end of the line.
Fourth clue; what car are you in and what the drivers number. I couldn’t answer either.
Conclusion: the nice little caribbean man wasn’t a taxi driver, nor was his car a taxi.
There then followed 10 minutes of silence as we drifted, eventually, north and past Buckingham Palace and on towards Paddington.
Did we make it? Yes, we did. Did we get ripped off? Well no, actually we didn’t. The fare was less that it would have been. Was the nice caribbean man a nice caribbean man? Well, yes, he was. But he was also a scoundrel.
This time, we got away with it but believe me, there won’t be a next time. I was caught out and I couldn’t believe i’d let it happen.
His Podgeness was a dickhead.
This post has no point, just a replay of something of nothing….
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