Continuing my experiences as a taxi driver. As I mentioned in the last post, I would park up on the ‘Rail’ to wait with all the other taxis for people getting off the trains that passed through Chesterfield. I remember a little old lady walking out of the station, looking a bit unsteady on her feet. She looked over towards the taxi rank and I was first in line. I saw she was heading over in my direction so I quickly got out and walked over to help her with her shopping bag. As I reached her side my nose was punched (sorry) by the unmistakable aroma of vintage urine!
Nevertheless, I walked with her holding her hand and thought quickly on what seemed like a 5 mile journey to the taxi. I stepped in front of her and politely asked her to wait just a second whilst I got a carrier bag out of the boot, using the excuse that a previous customer had spilt a drink on the seat she was about to sit on (White lie) I placed the bag into position and helped her in. When her bottom hit the seat the aroma seemed to refresh itself ! I hurried around the car and asked in my best, kindest taxi voice “Where to my dear”? She replied “Clay Cross please” and I sped off with the window open. On the way to her destination, it was only 5 or 6 miles, she very sweetly confessed that she didn’t have enough money for the fare. I was halfway there and she apologised saying she was so sorry and that I could stop the car and let her walk the rest of the way if I wanted to. (The old pulling on the heartstrings routine) But, I felt sorry for her so I assured her that I’d take her home, no problem. She got out of the taxi and I carried her bag for her to a bungalow.
She thanked me several times for being kind until I got back into the car and drove back to town. I couldn’t help thinking on the drive back that she was a crafty old so and so but reluctantly admired her cheek. When I drove back onto the taxi rank my suspicions were confirmed when one of the other drivers asked, with a smile on his face “Did she pay”? I rolled my eyes and didn’t answer, I just said “The crafty old bugger”. Apparently, she would make an appearance every few weeks and wait to dupe a driver who didn’t know her!!
If you have read the previous post, you will recall that I mentioned the ‘Brad Club’ the place where a person couldn’t fail to ‘Hook up’ if that’s what they were after! Well, I took a lone, middle aged woman there one night over the weekend, and when I dropped her off she asked me if she could book me for 2am. Of course I said yes, as long as I wasn’t busy. Anyway, I pulled up outside the doors about the time she asked for, and a couple of minutes later she came staggering out, saw me and jumped in the car. The way she spoke had gone from quite articulate when I dropped her at the club too slurred gibberish when I returned to the club. The taxi ride was very short, about 2 miles or so, but during that short journey she kept hinting at sexual activity, trying to put her hand on my knee, which I brushed away whilst trying to steer the taxi in a straight line!
When we arrived at her destination she straightened up in her seat from a slouching position, pushed her chest out, looked at me in a way that I think was an attempt at seduction and asked if she could pay me with a blow job!!!
I replied with “I’d rather have the fare” and she slammed the money in my hand and slammed the car door behind her!
That was the only near sexual experience I went through in a year of driving the taxi. To be honest, I actually preferred old pissy pants in the taxi, at least I felt safe!
I’ll carry on my taxi experiences in the next post.