Holding The Baby

Some stuff will just never find its way onto these pages, some stuff which I see and hear would just be too hurtful to the folks involved. Other stuff can be told after the passage of time this is just one such story. This took place a good few years back now and maybe the people involved have hopefully changed for the better, who knows let's hope so. The job was to pick a fare up from a large house which was split into flats, it was a rough sort of place and I had to wait a while before someone finally appeared. Then two guys walk out carrying a girl between them who looked unconscious, they heaved her in the back of the car and told me the address she was going to. I went to set off but one of them almost as an afterthought shouted for me to wait and went back into the house. The two guys both of whom were drunk then staggered out with a baby held between them.The baby of no more than twelve or thirteen months old was thrust on the lap of the semi-conscious girl. The girl was that far gone she could not speak or even keep her eyes open and so when we got to the address I was given, I took the baby off her and knocked on the door fully expecting someone sober waiting there to look after the both of them. After knocking for a while with no response, the girl roused herself enough to stagger to the door, open it and fall in. She then tried to take the baby from me, but looking at the state of her I was not so sure that was such a good idea. I had a look around the house in case someone else was about but found nobody at all. I then tried knocking on the neighbour’s door to see if they could help, but they simply didn’t want to know. 
 Very reluctantly I put the baby down and left, I suppose I was guilty of not wanting to get involved. But of course, my mind wouldn’t settle, I kept thinking about what could happen, but then I kept reminding myself that the child would probably be taken into care if the authorities found out. I radioed into the office and had a talk to the lady operator she didn’t hesitate “phone the police you’ll never forgive yourself if anything happens to that child” she said. I drove around aimlessly for a bit longer but the more I struggled with it the more I realised that something just had to be done. The phone call was made and I never did find out what happened over it. I just sincerely hope I did the right thing, but who knows what's for the best. did I make the right call I wonder?

Waxy

 You know a good tip is if that you want the low down on somewhere you are planning on dining at is to ask your cabbie.
 We are always given the verdict about the service and how good the meal was from lots of different folk. You know if restaurant owners wanted more trade they could do it easily by free or very cheap meals for taxi drivers. But then again listening to the squeals of protest from the front springs and looking at the over inflated spare tyres on the taxi ranks that may not be a good idea eh!
     One of my fares today was picking up a lady with her mother and grandmother after their meal at a local fancy eatery.
 Mother and daughter praised the meal to high heavens while granny just kept quiet. As luck would have it granny was the last to be dropped off, and so I got my chance to ask her what she really thought of the meal. “Fancy rubbish” she loudly announced why what was the problem I asked.
 “Well she said they gave me a side salad and the barmy beggars tried to put olive oil and vinegar on it”. What’s wrong with that I asked? She replied “Vinegar is for on me fish and chips and the only use for olive oil is to heat it up and put in your ears to melt the wax”. 
Don’t try this at home folks!.

Dumbphones

When someone seems to be talking to me from the seat directly behind nowadays, I have learnt not to answer straight away. 
This is after a couple of embarrassing incidents when I have answered them only to realise that they were actually talking to someone on their mobile phones and not actually to me. 
This mainly happens when they have the phone set to silent or vibrate mode and they then get a call, or they suddenly decide they desperately need to call someone right away and it cant wait a few minutes till I drop them off.
 Mobile phones to me can be very anti-social things, many times I have had three or four passengers in the taxi and instead of talking to each other they are all talking and texting to other people on their smartphones.
And I really really hate it when children are asking mum questions or trying to talk about their day and the mum completely ignores them because they have to urgently  update facebook or text back to some rubbish on messenger!
  The other anti-social thing that winds me up is when they get in the taxi wearing earphones and then turn the music down to tell you where they are going and then turn it right up to the max again for the rest of the journey.
 Some folk have it that loud that that I can hear the music louder than the car radio, that surely must be damaging these antisocial music fanatics hearing in some way.

Dung Beetle

A nice easy job picking up from the local hospital and ten miles up the road to Ulverston, or so I thought!

My fare was waiting in the foyer shoehorned into what must have been a specially strengthened jumbo size wheeled chair. I would guess that she would have been maybe between 28st (390lb) and 30st (402lbs) and had her right arm in plaster and stuck out at an extreme right angle.

She was with her mother who at maybe 4ft 10in and 6st (84lbs) was the complete opposite to her in every way.

I can’t wheel her declared the mother and looked at me expectantly, so I took a deep breath and started to shove as hard as I could on the back of the wheeled chair. At first, it would not budge and so I closed my eyes and gave it all I had and was rewarded with some movement. I opened my eyes when the victim began shouting at me and found that all I had managed to achieve was turning her on the spot three times. Mother pointed out that one of the wheels still had its brake on so I released that and prepared to set off again.

By this time, the ladies of the WRVS had evacuated the rest of the patients from the foyer and were comforting them with tea and biscuits.

 Off I set with the huge load squealing and shouting directions looking like a dung beetle pushing an elephant turd up an anthill.

When I finally reached the taxi with my Convoi Exceptionnel and I was pondering just how I would load her without any mechanical assistance, she popped up out of the chair like a whale breaching the ocean and shrieked “I can walk you know it’s my bloody arm that’s broken”

With that, she climbed into the front seat of the now lopsided groaning taxi.

I set of staggering back with the chair wondering why she waited for me to push her in the chair when she could walk and why I was daft enough to do it!  

Mother was sat very quiet in the back and daughter sat waiting to be belted up. This was never going to happen even if I could reach round her the belt would never have stretched the vast distance.

Next was the problem of releasing the handbrake which was hidden beneath some unknown part of the daughter’s anatomy, this was achieved with much embarrassed and apologetic fumbling and straining.

“I was ran over by a truck,” the daughter announced when we had set off, now being a sensitive sort of guy I didn’t follow my first instinct and ask her if the truck driver survived, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

Daughter had a loud shrill sort of voice that just didn’t seem to want to stop talking at me. After a mile or two mother quietly tried to interrupt her to tell me directions to the place they were going. This seemed to be a big mistake as daughter shrieked “can’t I bloody talk now you old cow” and this started a full scale argument between them for the next nine miles of pure hell.

Every time daughter shouted at mother, she turned round to face her in the back and in doing so punched me with the heavily plastered arm.

I was mentally exhausted and black and blue by I finally gratefully dropped them both off.

Some days I would rather be a dung beetle!      

Mothers Day

A typical mothers day. Always guaranteed to be a busy one as I found out yesterday. I didn't get started til around 1pm due to a very late night the night before and I ran non stop all day as mothers from all walks of life were being taken out and treated for dinner.

It made a pleasant change than taking drunks home late at night and all in all it looks like everyone was having a lovely day with their familys.

Now, if only every Sunday could be as busy as this.

This leads me on to one elderly lady that I picked up with her daughter and son in law who went on to tell me how her family had always been there for her no matter what and as she is now 99 years old she feels she is a burden on them as they have to do everything for her but as her daughter explained to me that she didn't mind and that "mam was there for me when I was younger and now its my turn to be there for her and repay all that kindness over the years".

Good old family values, You don't see much of that these days

Valentines Weekend

Well so far so good. The weekend has gone ok but its been a quiet one. The road works are causing major delays and a detour into town adding an extra mile on the journey coming from Barrow Island.

One conversation in the car this weekend between a mother and a young girl aged around 8 years old was quite enlightening. The young girl said she had a boyfriend at school and her mother asked who it was. As most 8 year olds do, they refuse to say who it is and she said "I`m not telling, its a secret". Her mother replied by saying that she shouldn't have boyfriends as she was too young to which the little girl promptly said." I need a boyfriend as I don't want to become a lesbian like my sister" I tried not to laugh at this as her mother instantly started to shout at her saying that we dont talk about things like that and its not right etc etc.

Made me laugh anyway, you don't expect a young girl to come out with that in conversation

RESPECT

RESPECT..... Wheres it gone...

This weekend, last job of the night around 4am I picked a young chav up and took him to an address in the town centre. On the journey into town he was ok and very quiet, you know the type, not very talkative but there again chavs do have a limited vocabulary.

On arriving at his destination he didnt have enough to pay the fare and got out the cab and knocked on a door to get it. After getting no response he kicked the door and shouted words to the effect of "Open this F****ng door now. A woman answered the door and he became very abusive with her. "Pay the taxi now you slag" was what he said to her.

5 minutes went by whilst he went in the house with her and then she shouted through the partly open front door for me to get the police. Just then, the young chav came out and paid me the fare using money given to him by the woman. At this point I learnt that the woman was his mother as he told me that his mother gave him the money.

I then notice his mother at the door with blood all over her nose and mouth. The young chav grabbed his mobile phone from me and flew towards his mother who immediately slammed the door and locked him out.

I`ve now been paid and am on my way but as I moved off down the street I could hear this young thug banging and kicking the door and shouting obscenities at the top of his voice. I did call the police for fear of his mothers safety and judging by the noise he was making then I`m guessing most the neighbours would have also called the Police

Maybe its me, maybe its the way I`ve been brought up but I was always taught to respect my elders and I never ever would have treated my mother like this. Whats the world come to???

The best of it is that this violent chav didnt seem drunk or high on drugs and yet he was violent towards his mother and had total disregard for his mothers neighbours.