In Melbourne you’d be pretty hard pressed not to find a taxi – they’re part of the scenery, which by extension means so are Taxi drivers. Those valliant knights of the bitumen who ferry us around at our most vulnerable moments. Bless ‘em.
They are an interesting and varied breed of people these drivers. No doubt everyone reading this has had some kind of strange conversation or experience in a Taxi – which makes me wonder what common personal characteristics are required for those in the profession? Varied backgrounds and educational levels pose no problem as the skills needed are more of a personal nature - people skills, diplomacy, cleanliness and, well, of course… the ability to drive. I would add to that list the ability to stay awake through the night or the willingness to dabble in some mild substance abuse, as well as the ability to multi-task ie. talking on your phone, to your customer, and also… safely operating a vehicle simultaneously.
Some recent conversations with taxi drivers have piqued my curiosity in the cab folk and the way they live their lives. One recent driver was a softly spoken Indian guy who explained that he was new to driving Taxi’s. It was only his second shift, and already he hated it. He then confessed that he often experienced micro sleeps… which of course made me talk both louder and faster literally to save my life. I can understand the micro sleeps though as he explained driving was his third job and he only gets a few hours rest a night. Poor dude. I could tell he wanted to be home in bed rather than exchanging niceties with me. But I really needed to get to bed too… so…
Another guy a few weeks back was more of a morbid philosopher than a cab driver. I suggested he have business cards made proclaiming his dual professions but he didn’t care for that idea. At the time I was wearing a very short dress and in the cab alone on my way to some birthday celebrations, feeling rather … exposed. He asked me if I would do him a favour… My nerves started subsiding when he went on to explain and it wasn’t a blowjob he was after. Something about turning off the meter I don’t know. That sounds pretty dodgy nonetheless. He enquired about where I was headed, and I explained my friend was having a birthday party. He then told me that 25 is the end of youth and happiness. Apparently, once you wake up on your 25th birthday, your life basically goes steadily downhill from there until you die. If old age doesn’t get me, I’m sure depression will. Thanks dude. He explained how pretty much any person you meet will be fucked up in some way, and relationships are a waste of time. He divulged details of close friend/client’s relationships to me too.
When I was a kid I never took taxis. Well, obviously… because I was a kid. But my fambo always seemed to be driving or we'd get public transport. Taxis were just something I saw in movies. I can’t even really remember my first cab ride, it seems like I should remember something like that- my first experience being driven around in awkward silence by a stranger. Oh well, as my taxi driver told me, none of it really matters anyway. I may as well just lay still and wait for the end now. JKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK I'm actually super hyper right now. Amazing what a can o' coke can do to a gal. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE :D
