Taxi Times

There has been many a time where a taxi driver has over charged me because of the situation I was in. This is not the case of all taxi drivers, but I do recall standing outside Waitrose around 2am bartering with them as they asked for a premium payment to take me home at that moment or wait 3 hours when it’s all calmed down. When it’s freezing and you’re starving, twenty pound seems a small price to pay to get back.


This encounter however, left me confused and also challenged these previous experiences I’ve had. I booked a taxi from outside the library on a Sunday evening when it arrived with a screech as it zoomed around the corner.


“Yes bruvva, how you doing?” He said as I got in.


“Yeah, not bad, thanks” I replied whilst thinking, should I bother going through the cliché questions of what time did he start work, what time will he finish work and how well he knows the roads round these parts.


“So you been in the library, man you must be studying hard. Economics?”


“Huh? Erm, no. I’ve been out and I was planning to walk home but I got tired” I told him. I noticed he had a massive grin on his face as he bobbed his head back and forth.


“Wow, you are a studier. Me, I mean, economics, man, that’s difficult. But do you like it?”


I didn’t know what to say, I wasn’t sure if he didn’t care what I said or had no comprehension of my replies.


“So what you say, economics is hard for me?”


“Erm, nah, I think you could do economics well.”


“Ah wicked.” This was then followed by a laugh that resembled me of Mutley from Whacky Racers.


Now I was sniggering to myself because of Mutley. We went past three consecutive roundabouts in silence until he asked me another question.


“So is macroeconomics harder than microeconomics, my man?”


He shuffled a bit and I noticed he was wearing Adidas tracksuit bottoms with sandals; this guy was a right character.


“To be honest, I don’t know. I reckon you should visit an adult education website to help you, or something. It seems you really like economics.”


“Yeah, yeah that seems a really good idea.”


We pulled up at my destination, and he gave another Mutley laugh before charging me £3.50. I pulled out a ten pound note and he shook his head.


“Ah man, you ain’t got anything smaller?”


I opened the little compartment in my wallet and tipped out £1.73 in change.


“Ok, ok, ok, that’ll do. Superb,” he said whist scooping up the change.


I got out, said goodbye and felt a bit unsure of what had just happened. He drove away, I swear I heard one more Mutley laugh as he zoomed off, and I thought this was the first time I had paid less for my journey. However, what really freaked me out was that he took me to my location without me saying anything.


Weird.