Itsy Bitsy

I don't mind spiders at all, they just don't bother me, but going by the reactions I have had in the back of the cab lately, they sure do bother some people. Apparently, I have had a spider as a non-paying passenger for the last week or so. I've never seen it but going by the screams and quick exits that some fares make it must be a scary one. Every time someone mentions it I check the car out and despite searching high and low all I have found are a few silky threads. They tell me it's small and red and very quick, it must be to survive my weekly assault with the hoover. But one thing its good for is keeping kids quiet in the back after the first scream most get to the furthest corner and just watch in silent horror. Think I might get some more and keep them in a matchbox just to threaten the kids with.

Oh, the photo is one the daughter nearly scared to death by screaming when she found it innocently sharing the bath.

Pub or Home

It was a slow Sunday with few rural runs but two jobs stand out from today.
The first was from Walney Island, I got to the address and was waiting for a minute or two when a guy walked down the garden path towards the car, then he stopped and went back inside presumably to answer his phone which had started to ring. I seemed to be then for waiting ages after that and so I blew the horn, just then another car pulled up behind me and also sounded his horn. Then I spied the guy sneaking out of the house and who then actually climbed over the hedge and into next doors garden to use their gate to make his getaway. What I think happened was that his mates had rung him and offered him a lift instead of paying for a taxi and he was too spineless to tell me and then maybe have to pay the no pick up fee. All to save a couple pounds, I hope he ripped his pants and gets a dodgy kebab for supper. 
The last job of the day was from a pub in Dalton and when the couple finally come out and get in the cab they both say different destinations,” Which one first” I asked no he said” just the one we’re going home” “oh no we are not she says we’re going to the Railway pub”. This went on back and forth between them and got increasingly heated, now then which one do you listen to? After a minute or two I worked out that the guy was the  soberer of the two and took them home, with the women getting more and more abusive to him I was glad when they got out, but as I drove away I could still hear her shouting that she wanted to go to the pub from a few hundred yards down the street.

Jitters

In stark contrast, to yesterday's run of funeral jobs I had a few wedding runs today. One was with the bride, chief bridesmaid and the bridesmaids brother going to the bride’s mothers to get themselves ready for the big ceremony. They were going a nearby village which is a six-mile ride away.
The two girls seemed to get more and more stressed for every yard that we drove along, they were on the phone making last minute arrangements and asking each other if they had forgotten anything all in all in a total flap. On the way, we stopped off at the posh hotel where the reception was to be held and when the bride and bridesmaid got out of the taxi to drop something off there was silence for a minute or two then the brother and I looked at each other and just burst out laughing. Talk about stress give me a good funeral do anytime.

The Coin Juggler

I had what I always refer to as a coin juggler in the back of the cab today. I pick this particular type of folk up maybe once or twice a week, and they can be of either sex and old or young, rich or poor but they always sit in the back and try to be discrete. What they do is they watch the taxi meter obsessively and every time it clicks over they move the coins from one hand to the other so that they have the exact fare ready in small change, minus the tip of course! You don’t get very much conversation out of a coin juggler just the soft obsessive clinking of coins, but still they always amuse me no end. What does catch the juggler out now and again is when the meter adds the waiting time on when we stop at lights or in heavy traffic and the meter goes up a few bob, that’s when they tend to juggle faster and then panic and drop all their precious coins on the cab floor.

Black Eye Friday

Way up here in this part of the North of England, we tend to call the last Friday before Christmas “Black Eye Friday.”
 It's the day most people finish work for the Christmas holidays and they tend to finish work early about lunch time and they then head straight down to the pub for a long boozy session.
 I find it amusing when it gets to about four o'clock in the afternoon I then start to pick up some of the less hardened boozers when they have had enough and want to go home.  Lots of them are then telling me what a good night they have had; they are convinced that because it's dark that it must be very very late at night. I never tell them any different and just drive them home.
 Once a year drunks I call them the very worst kind of drinker because they just aren't used to it, give me a seasoned drinker anytime.  They take ages to come out of the pub shaking hands, hugging everyone in sight, and then going back into the pub several times for yet more long emotional farewells. Then once you get them into the taxi, the struggle is then to get them out of the taxi at the other end, because you are, their new very best friend in the whole wide world and they want to tell you their life story many times very very slowly and emotionally. Then its handshakes and if I’m very unlucky big bear hugs, but of, course none of my new found best friends ever recognise me ever again.
Still it's all good sport, Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Prison Review

I always like to listen to people's regional accents and then try to guess exactly whereabouts they are from. Today I guessed correctly that my fare was from the Salford area straight after him saying where he was going to. He was that much impressed that I had said Salford and not the rival nearby Manchester that he strangely decided to give me the full low down on all the many prisons he had been in up and down the country.

 It was like an insider's guide with all the good and bad points of Her Majesty’s accommodation from all over the country. Apparently Armley jail in Leeds is best avoided" the screws don’t like you if you aren’t a tyke". But our local jail Haverigg "is just a holiday camp" compared to most. I just wish I had could have written it all down now, you never know when it may have come in useful eh!

Proportions

I was talking to a guy today about the rules of percentages and proportions and all sorts of interesting stuff. When I dropped him off  I thought of a few rules that seem to apply whilst working as a cabbie especially in certain areas of Barrow.
 Please don't take offence cos I'm only messing!

#The scruffier the house you pick up from the better the mobile phone they will have with them.

#The amount of rubbish in the front garden is proportional to the screen size of the giant T.V in the front room.

#The bigger the rottweiler the more outrageous the kids names, come on Porsche, Gypsy, Paris, Buster, Diesel gerrin the taxi)

#The complaints about lack of cash are directly proportional to the amount of times that they are picked up from the bingo hall or boozer.

#The slower they limp out of the house when they think somebody is watching the quicker they run into the off-licence (grog shop for our foreign readers) when you drop them off.

#The bigger and more pretentious the house the lesser the chance of a tip.

#The scruffier the house you pick up from the more blingy the jewellery worn by the fare.

#The more expensive the trainers the lesser the vocabulary usually limited to innit,nectar,latta,mingin,wotever,

There And Back

It has seemed really strange picking up the one- half left of an elderly couple who have been regular fares for a good few years now. When the lady was alive up till a month or two ago it was her who did all the talking, simply because the ould chap was very deaf and it was hard to have a conversation with both being in the back seats of the taxi. The first time that I picked him up when he was alone I made sure that he rode up front with me so that we could have a proper conversation.
 It was a seven-mile trip and so after offering condolences for his loss I started to ask him about his life and times past. It wasn't easy with me having to talk really loud and repeat myself a few times but wow it sure was worth the effort. Amongst other things, he told me the story of him being posted to Japan within months of the Japenese surrender. He shivered as he told me about the horrors he saw when passing through Hiroshima on the way to his first posting. Then he broke into a smile as he told me how he was the butt of a practical joke by his sergeant within the first week of his duties of transporting military vehicles between bases.  The sergeant made him memorize a phrase in Japanise,  which remarkably he could still clearly recite, this was to be used when he was stopped by the Japenese military police.  Laughing he said it seemed to work every time, but he found out later the reason they looked at him so confused was because he was actually saying in Japenese "There and back to see how far it is."    
I have had a good talk with him on the few times that I have picked him up since but couldn't help but notice the deterioration in him lately, he really is struggling. Today he was telling me about his health problems and then he told me how his doctors had given him a list of his ailments that he had to have on display prominently at home in case he collapsed.  I was left struggling for adequate words when he went on to calmly ask me what Alzheimer's meant because that was one of the ailments on his list.

Mobile Makeup

You know it always amuses me the way that some people really make themselves comfortable when they get into the taxi. Even though they may be in the cab for only a short time I see people adjusting the seats and wriggling about like a tired dog about to get settled. Women seem to be the worst some really make themselves at home, they start putting makeup on and brushing their hair using the vanity mirror and on one occasion a woman even took out a can of highly scented deodorant lifted up her jumper and sprayed her hairy armpits. I have been asked to slow down and avoid bumps whilst they carefully apply their lipstick and eye makeup.  But you know how it is, sometimes the temptation is just too great and I have to brake and swerve to avoid the odd imaginary cat or two on the road. 
You would think that with all this pampering and preparation that they would want to show off their good looks, but I have found that a lot will ask to be dropped round the corner from a pub or restaurant so they can slip in unnoticed.

Bootless

Why do our local Barrow lasses go out on the town in boots or shoes that are so very obviously uncomfortable.
 On the Sunday mornings presumably after a hard nights partying I always seem to pick up lots of young ladies  carrying the previous night’s footwear.
 Last Sunday morning I picked up three girls in a row all carrying high boots with big heels, if they hurt why wear them? 
 Still that’s women for you.
 Reminds me of a Sunday a while back when I picked up a lass going to one of the villages about six or seven miles away from Barrow, she had been out all night and was still pretty drunk. Still in a good mood she was talking away about her night and things that had happened and all the while she was emphasising points by waving her arms about. After about three miles she was still in full flow when suddenly she stopped and quickly put her hands down and went bright red. That was when I knew that she had finally realised she had her knickers grasped in her hand and had been waving them about for the last ten minutes.
 She slipped them into her pocket and didn't say much after that; they were red by the way!

Splashing Time

It rained constantly all day today and I was  getting peoples favourite comment to taxi drivers “I bet you drivers love it when it rains like this”.
 Well here’s one driver who doesn't, it’s no fun at all driving all day in the pouring rain you have to concentrate a heck of lot more to dodge all the people with umbrellas or hoods up who just walk out into the road.
 And if it’s raining from early morning people especially the older folk  just don't want to go out unless they have to and if they do they tend to be a lot more miserable than usual.
 But if it starts to rain when everybody is already out then that’s ok we have a busy time then. Showers are a mixed blessing people call a cab and then it stops so they walk and we get lot of no pickups.
 The only consolation is driving through deep puddles and splashing traffic wardens.

Drugged Duo

I had picked up two guys this morning from what must one of the roughest blocks of flats here in Barrow. Both seemed to be heavily under the influence of some sort of drug and they proceeded to rap lyrics to some sort of extreme racist song.

I asked them politely to pack it in and tried to make a joke out of the situation before they got too far out of hand. So they kindly then moved on to religion and sang hymns whose words had been altered to mock various religious figures.

 This was all getting a bit too much for what should have a quiet Sunday morning and not a riotous Saturday night.

Thankfully after a couple of crazy miles one of the guys, the noisiest was to be dropped off first. Before he got out of the cab he leaned into the front and whispered to me in a weird sing song voice “never trust a man who standing in front of you turns round bends over pulls his pants down and sticks his finger up his bum then licks that finger” Shaking my head I gratefully waited for him to get the hell out of my taxi.

 Well he did, but he then stood in front of the taxi and did exactly what he had just so graphically described.

This all took place in front of an unwilling audience coming and going from the busy nearby newsagents!        

Trapped

   I seemed to be picking up lots of people from all four corners of the globe this week, including Poles, Slavic, Chinese and a real nice Australian couple from Perth.

One among them was talking excitedly in a strange language that I could just not figure out whereabouts was from. After many times of asking him to repeat what he was saying slowly things just kept getting worse, he was talking even faster and much louder.

 This went on for quite a while until I realised that he wasn't speaking in a foreign tongue at all.  Unfortunately, I had shut the electric windows accidentally trapping his hand. 

He was simply swearing with what turned out to be a very strong Glaswegian accent

  

On The Street

I saw this strange sight today on a local  Barrow in Furness street and couldn't resist taking a photo.
 It reminded me of a tale from one particular busy Sunday a while back now.
 I had picked my fare up which was a guy who had obviously been out partying all night long. He was still very much the worse for wear but in a very good mood laughing and joking as we drove through to the nearby town of Dalton.
 The party animal was still laughing at one of his many unfunny jokes when we pulled into his street, then he suddenly stopped and the entire colour drained out of his face and he looked really shocked. 
What’s the matter I asked, his mouth was working but no words were coming out, he looked like he was going to have a seizure. But then I saw the problem outside what turned out to be his house was a pile of plastic bags with shoes clothes etc (his I guess) spilling out. 
 And to make it worse it was pouring it down with rain and there balanced on top of the sodden pile was a very expensive looking stereo. 

Murder Miles

As soon as I saw the guy come out of the White House hotel I recognised him, it had been a long long while but I definitely remembered him.

A bit creepy with body language you somehow can’t interpret and laughing at inappropriate times was what I recalled most about him.

 He got in the cab without making eye contact and mumbled his destination and so we set of for Askam which is about six miles away.

 Not seen you for a long while I said, must be twelve or fifteen years maybe eh?

Have you moved away or something I asked.

 Without looking at me, he said, “No I’ve been in prison for a long while “without thinking it I stupidly said oh aye! What for?

” MURDER” he casually, replied.

There was an awkward silence for a while with me frantically racking my brain for a safer subject

How’s your father then not seen him for a while I asked?

It was him I was in jail for killing he said without looking up from playing with his phone.

Rest of the now long long journey in  total silence.

Too Broke to Retire

This from Roy at Irish Taxi an edited TV documentary about the difficulties facing taxi drivers who just cannot afford to retire.

 This tells the story of the Irish drivers but I strongly suspect that this situation is the same for drivers in the trade worldwide.

Being a Taxi Driver, A view from outside the trade.

A guest post from fellow Barrovion Matt from Ram Tracking.

Being a taxi driver

The beauty of being a taxi driver is that, to an extent, you are your own boss, you are in your own car and you get to communicate with a variety of different people. Let’s face facts, as a taxi driver you are never going to be short on stories; some nicer than others. However there are always going to be risks involved with this; personal safety being the most important; thankfully this is rare and you should feel safe in your job. There are new measures that you will have seen popping up such as the introduction of CCTV in taxis.

If being a taxi driver is your profession then one of your most valuable assets is your car. Have you ever wondered what you would do if it was stolen? Not only would you lose the main tool of your trade but think of the other things that you could lose. Satellite Navigation Systems, CD’s, Radio, money; these are all things that could be kept in your car. However, I think most taxi drivers have the intelligence to remove, or at least hide these from view, to protect their car and job. Think about it though, what if the worst did actually happen? How would you pay your bills? Think of the ‘even more’ expensive insurance premiums! What if your vehicle was tracked as part of a fleet? This means that you could instantly locate your car. Also, this would be ideal for personal safety as someone could find you if needs be in an emergency. I just think it could be something to consider. It may seem ‘Big Brother’ to some but to others it may seem like a personal insurance.

From an outsiders point of view I have the upmost respect for taxi drivers; I can only imagine the stress that people actually go through in this job. Dealing with issues such as picking up drunks, having people in your car that you do not want to be there, feeling uncomfortable in your own car with strangers, and having ‘those’ people who think it’s more than OK to fit in more people than you can legally carry.

I can see some great benefits though as no-day is ever going to be the same, you get to meet a variety of different characters in an enclosed space, the conversation will always feel fresh and hopefully you get tipped more often than not.

Taxi driving, like any job, has its up and it’s downs. There will obviously be hazards but it is good to be aware of these so you can prevent things from happening. It saddens me when those things do however they do not outweigh the positives. There will also be great times where you have excellent company in your passenger seats; someone with a great sense of humour that makes you laugh, someone who has enjoyed your company they want to part with more money than it should cost, building a reputation as a taxi driver can reap great awards for you. Overall though, just like in any career, you should always let the positive outweigh the negatives.

This is a guest post written by Matt Jones on behalf of RAM tracking. Matt writes about a variety of topics including music, marketing and the vehicle industry. 

New York Taxi?

Is this the long awaited replacement for the iconic New York Taxi? This is one of the finalists.

A Trip to the beach

The weather lately has been extremely hot and today I picked up 2 American Ladies and an English Lady. The Americans were staying with her and they wanted me to take them to the beach so they could take photographs.

When I got to the beach they asked if I could leave the meter running and walk with them on the beach and take photos. What a great time. we had a walk and took some photos and spent a good 20 minutes there. The cuistomers bought me an Icecream and then off we went to another beach whjere we spent around 10 minutes before heading in the opposite direction towards Furness Abbey for even more pictures.

If only I could get customers like this all the time. I get to enjoy myself on the beach and get paid for it at the same time as well as making the most of this fantastic heatwave

Taxi drivers grumpy workers?

A recent report shows that London Taxi drivers are Britain's grumpiest workers, according to a survey on Monday, while secretaries are the happiest.

The gloomy prospect of ferrying around strangers every day makes taxi-drivers laugh less than any other profession, according to the survey of 4 000 workers.

Drivers cited traffic jams, the rising cost of petrol, drunken passengers and frisky couples as reasons not to be cheerful.

Fitness instructors could lighten up too, with just 0.9% of them saying they enjoy a giggle in the gym.

Those in recruitment could also do with a good dose of humour, the survey said, as just 3.8% laughed regularly during the working day.

By contrast, 53.5% of secretaries said they laughed on a regular basis during a working day, with a quarter of those surveyed confessing that most of their amusement comes from watching the stressful lives of their disgruntled bosses.

Other workers scoring high on the laughter scale were, perhaps surprisingly, accountants - many of whom said they regularly played pranks or wound up their workmates to alleviate the daily grind - and teachers.

The results of the survey, conducted for comedy TV channel G.O.L.D. also revealed a correlation between laughter at work and days off taken sick.

The more we laugh, it seems, the less we skive.