Diary of a Taxi Driver by John Lockett

Author:John Lockett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brown Dog Books

Cakes – April 2009

Boss was controlling the office this one day while he attended to reams of tiresome paperwork and I went about a pleasant day’s taxi driving. The sun was out and everything was going routinely when he shouted me over the radio.

Boss – TC6, what’s your position?

Me – Just finished off a hire in Bellsbank. Returning to the office now

Boss – There’s a lady in the office who requires your services TC6

Me – Roger, Control. Five minutes

Boss (laughing) – Not good enough TC6

Me (pretend seriousness) – I’m doing my very best Boss

Boss (laughing) – Aye well TC6 your best is merely adequate

Me – I beg to differ, Control. I’m the best Brummie taxi driver this village has ever seen

Boss – Just get back here

Whoever was waiting in the office could hear this exchange, and I knew that Boss liked to banter when certain folk could overhear. Boss and myself had a very good working relationship. He had off days like we all do, but I liked the guy and I think he liked me. We’re still friends now and often chat on the phone. I drove back to the office and pulled up outside.

Me (radio) – TC6 outside

Boss – Come in TC6. The lady has a lot of messages

I got out the car and went in the office and it was June, one of my regular senior ladies.

June – Oh hello John, I need a run up to home please

Me – Certainly

June followed me out the office as I carried all of her messages barring two wee bags. We placed it all in the boot, and were soon on our way.

Me – Lovely spring day, June

June – Oh yes John. You and Boss have a good laugh on the radio I heard. You two make me laugh

Me – Aye June, we try and have a laugh because this job can be hard at times. One minute I’m taking a nice lady like yourself home. The next minute... who knows? Some drunken oaf or verbal abuse maybe.

We carried on chatting, and soon arrived at her house. Again I took the bulkiest bags and followed behind June who carried the two wee bags. We walked up her slabbed pathway which bent sharply to the left and continued our wee chat. She looked behind to say something and stumbled, falling like a felled tree. Luckily her head missed the path as it bent left just at the right moment, so her face landed in soft border soil she hadn’t yet planted.

Quick as a flash I placed my bags down and gently helped her. She cried and I wiped the loose soil from her face. Once she’d regained a bit of composure I helped her up, found her key, opened the door and escorted her into the kitchen and sat her down. I put the kettle on, then nipped outside to retrieve the shopping. I returned and found a kitchen towel to clean up her face. I couldn’t see any cuts or abrasions.

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