Confessions of a Cab Driver Part 1: Have you ever had to? I have...

 *This Originally appeared in my column at HastingsObserver.co.uk and in the Sabotagetimes.com

Hello All!

Have you ever had to do something you didn’t want to do? Have you done something for someone because they have asked for help and you don’t want to do it?

Oh! I have…

-Have you ever had to drive around an unconscious fat bloke in the road and observe the give way to your right rule? I have...

-Have you ever put a traffic cone on someone’s tummy to warn other road users? I have…

-Have you ever cut off the size 16 label off someone’s thong “just in case” she pulls? I have…

-Have you ever had to leave someone in a hedge with a note pinned to him to passers by asking them if anyone knows where he lives? I have…

-Have you ever had to tell off three gay men for wearing bad shoes? I have…

-Have you ever had to lick down someone’s comb over on a windy day? I have…

-Have you ever had to hold someone’s tummy in, so she can do up her zip on a bonnet of a cab? I have…

-Have you ever advised on how to cook the perfect loaf whilst power sliding over kebab meat? I have..

-Have you ever watched a fool punch your cab at 30mph and see him realise it flippin’ hurts when you do that? I have…

-Have you ever jokingly told a gambler the winners of the next four races only for them to actually win, then find he is stalking you for more tips? I have…

-Have you ever advised a man on what he should be wearing, to find yourself minutes later picking out his outfit, in his bedroom, with him standing in just his pants? I have…

-Have you ever advised a woman on what she should be wearing, To find yourself minutes later picking out an outfit with her standing in just her underwear? um... I have...

-Have you ever written something and then realised your wife reads your column faithfully every week? I have…

-Have you ever stopped traffic because all four of your passengers are  being sick in the road at the same time? I have…

-Have you watched a passengers dog leap out of the window of a moving cab to chase a fox? I have…


-Have you written the word “have” far too many times to be feasibly possible in one article? Um… I have…

Well! You can’t have too much of a good thing can you? Ok! Ok! I’m going, I'm going…



Until next time…

It's 42... No! not the meaning of life silly! The times I used the word "have" ...well its 43 now! Arse...

Just a Cab Driver then eh? Class divisions hidden but still here...

It is interesting isn't it, how your job perceives you as a person, it defines and labels you, and more importantly, puts you in your social category that the job you do defines you as.

A "Cab Driver" eh? Definitely working class right?

Well of course it is! I am from a working class background, my eastend brick lane cockney brogue gives me away, if I see a penny in the gutter no matter where I might be or who I'm with, I'll pick it up, this most certainly harks back to a more austere poverty, the normalcy of it, was part of my young life.

This article is about perception, and class divisions.

My pet hates about people is how they define themselves. A typical introduction to me from some of my customers is "I'm a teacher" "I'm a councillor" "I'm a doctor"  etc...

They let me know, I have someone in the cab that's a cut above the rest, because they can't or wont define themselves AS themselves, the job title and degree suffices as an introduction into what side of the fence they are from. They also create in that moment the invisible barrier of division between themselves and me.

Why?

This class division is probably as old as civilisation itself, But I'm straying away from the central question I posed and maybe the REAL question I'm asking is:

Why does your job or role define you as a person?

I do quite well on Twitter, number one in my area and apparently, excluding commercial companies, I'm the most successful taxi driver on twitter, possibly in the world! (that's a bit crazy isn't it!) People find my true tales of the good, the bad, and the downright stupid, "entertaining" and I enjoy very much telling them.
 
Suddenly, I am an entertainer!

Well! Where did that come from? I don't mind, in fact now, because of  it, I was invited by my local newspaper to write a weekly column for them. I now write mostly light hearted pieces for them online, my aim and focus now, is to be entertaining.


One of the strange consequences of this role as a default entertainer on twitter and on my online column is that, more of me is disappearing under this persona, and more of this "Mr Taxi Man" is gaining hold. which is why I do this personal blog to let the "me" out of the box now and again.

I started "Twittering" when my town I live in, had, perhaps, ten or twelve active twitterers (Not sure what the "official" collective noun is yet!) there is now happily hundreds, I don't feel so alone out there in the twitterverse-or so I would have thought.

I have loyally followed new twitterers as they have popped into existence in the twitterverse, belonging to a local like minded collective and a "lets see what's out there" philosophy excites me. Strangely or oddly over 80% of them refuse to follow me back! And I have been blocked by people I have never conversed with or even met!

The local twitterati are possibly, perhaps afraid I will write about them maybe? I'll expose a weakness, find a chink or personality flaw that I will exploit and use online to the delight of the rest of my followers, something I have never done by the way! The worthy and the humble always get an admirable mention, which leaves the inane, insane or inbred who get the humorous mentions from me! 

But They all define me as a twittering Taxi driver first.


I am naturally attracted to people of intelligence and wit. My admiration for people that can turn words or images, moving or still, into a hammer that cracks our beliefs and makes us question and think, is of a particularly high attraction for me. I follow a good but small dearth of local talent that operate on a global level with their words and images. I comment, castigate, and cajole them to do better, be better, to make me salivate with their sharp double edged sword of words and images. But I get nothing back, no conversation, no interaction, my confidence undone yet again. I feel like a child pulling at a mothers skirt wanting to be listened to.

So. why am I not part of the little online local clique then? Is it the taxi man badge of commonness? I'm not the eastend boy done good am I? Like perhaps, Alfred Hitchcock? David Bowie? Marc Bolan? Vidal Sassoon? Terence stamp? Micky Flanagan? I could roll off dozens and dozens more. I'm an eastend lad, and I am where I'm exactly meant to be, and that it seems, is driving a taxi.

A better example perhaps is my very old friend Micky Flanagan, I was in fact, his older brothers best friend when I was a young buck, all of us were dragged up on the same council estate in the east end.

Copy this link to Micky into your search bar http://tinyurl.com/2vbtkr9 and see his talent for yourself!

Micky has gained considerable success as a stand up comedian with shows on the BBC and various guest appearances all over television and Radio. His success is due to his comedic comment on his/our upbringing in the eastend! And, how he has risen, got a degree, became a teacher, married into the middle class's and the differences between him and his "elevated" position as a celebrity and honorary middle class citizen.

His career is dependant on these differences. My career is because of these differences.

Myself and mickeys family grew up on an estate not TWO minutes walk from Liverpool St station in the centre of the city of London the capital of the financial world, none of that wealth ever trickle down the street to our estate, not a penny ever fell and rolled down to us. 

"Poverty and wealth breathing the same air, drinking the same tap water"

My mum spent most of her life cleaning and wiping the arses of the rich middle and upper classes in the city of London's financial centre, working as an early morning and evening cleaner for a couple of quid a week, sometimes I would help her when I finished work so she could get home a bit earlier. One clear moment I remember is when I cleaned the director of a big nameless banks mighty office and saw on his mighty desk, that he was using a ten ounce bar of platinum as a paperweight, my career as a thief nearly started right there and then, but giving my mum the rest of the year off after I sold it, would have been marred by the visits she would have had to make to a prison to see me.


Not until this eastend boy does "good" will my perceived social standing change and therefore, for the time being remains and stays. I'm not ashamed of it please believe me, but are others ashamed to be associated with it or me?



I would love to write for a living, I have always dared myself to publish what I have written but never have done anything more than look at them every now and again, I have three books written, tucked under my bed, all different, and with endings that will tear emotions out of your chest. Incidentally, I have only been writing "publicly" for six or so weeks now, so forgive the grammatical errors if there are any, because I don't know IF there are any.


So what do I do? dear weary reader, I'm hearing in my minds ear, Get on with it! So what? What is your problem? You are all probably right of course!

Class divisions are alive and well and reformatted for the 21st century is my WHOLE point I suppose, no matter how well you do in your chosen working class "profession" or area you live in, unless you rise over and above it, you will always be one of us and NEVER one of them. You may have done well and don't see my point, maybe that's because you have never questioned why your well heeled mates enjoy your working class company, they don't want you, they need you, but they don't want you.

It is important to note here, the class division in these, now austere times are now wider than ever, the drawbridges are going up, the access to help is dwindling, your money and pensions are worth less than ever.

At this point, I need to tell you something, I was very very successful in two chosen fields. First, I was in Fashion for many years and ran some of the most successful addresses in the west end of London, Kings road, Oxford St, Carnaby St. They were my domain, I mixed with Princes of Europe, Counts and Lords dressing them, and in their address books.


Secondly, I was in logistics for the financial and insurance industry, Commanding hundreds affecting thousands, Dining on yachts moored on the Thames, helicopters to meetings with the great and the good.  In both careers I was the eastend boy that done good, my accent didn't matter, I was making things happen for the well heeled and the well oiled. It summarises my point your only allowed in when you are successful.


In my circlet of twitter friends, local and distant, there are a few that talk to me as an equal, they are the ones that make me feel at home, part of their community, communicative and open to me, and I to them. My eternal Thanks go out to them.


Oh! And if you see a penny, pick it up! For all the day you will have good luck!


Until next time.

Local news around my parts...

This article is totally non global and very locally specific this week! but you are most welcome to read on! It will appear in my weekly column that I write for in my local newspaper, The Hastings Observer online. thank you.

Hello again!

This week, I’m commenting on the local Hastings Observer news, well…It might be last weeks now! but it was this weeks when I mashed my fists on this extra large keyboard at the time of writing. Below are the actual headlines that has appeared here recently online, I have added my opinion in a poor attempt to be more locally topical! (and no, I don’t mean ointment..)

And here are those headlines…

Hotelier has plans for a modern plaza on Hastings seafront.
-This means he has bought a table and four chairs from Tesco’s and has plans to use them outside somewhere…

Teen fined for swearing at his mother in the street.
-I didn’t get fined for swearing at my mum, I got to see stars and didn’t go out for three months.

St Leonard’s praised for unique character.
-Well! I should think so too! Seeing as he was one of the most venerated saints of the late Middle Ages!

Shoplifters two day spree nets beef, DVDs and chocolates.
-My two day shoplifting spree was in Woolworths aged six, I nicked a humbug on day one and a toffee that broke my tooth on day two.

Row over Pelham crescent access.
-I don’t plan to buy a kayak and row over anywhere…

Dad spends his birthday in the dock.
-How lovely! The east end docks are quite trendy these days, I wonder which one he went to?

Former college to be turned into new houses.
-Now this is just silly, we all know magic isn’t real!

And in Club news…

St Leonard’s bridge club.
-St Leonard will be pleased his bridge club is still going, we have come a long way since the middle ages wooden ones eh? We have some really big metal ones now.

Air-raid sirens sound over Silverhill.
-Bert, 92, wasn’t told the war was over, the Messerschmitt he thought he saw was in fact a scale model flown by Sid aged 9 from Bohemia. He was glad to hear the new Asda store wasn’t a German U-boat factory!


And in more local news…

Nursery’s dismay after play area funds frozen.
 -Who’s idea was it to put them in the freezer anyway hmm?

Councillor’s street light warning.
-What is he going to warn next? The traffic lights?

Mother and daughters horseback fundraiser.
 -I wasn’t happy with these two, as they trampled my flowers and got the snotty horse to knock on my door. Shake a tin in the town centre like everybody else…

Well! That’s the news from around these parts…


And now the news from around my parts…

The things going on in the Cab recently have been the usual mix of smelly dogs, smelly people and odd women with pretend broken backs, a special mention for the Idiot that wanted to put a 50”inch plasma TV into a 36” inch boot! Also, a man and woman were being sick in a synchronised way four times each in the same journey! And a Woman who admitted to stabbing her husband and having an affair! Anyhoo! for more of that stuff head over to Twitter.com/mr_taxi_man there is nearly 6000 more like that!

Oh! Did I say magic wasn’t real?

My Downs syndrome customer and I were doing a little dance sitting in the cab at the traffic lights. (there was a local councillor shouting at them, how odd!)  an Abba song was playing on the radio, he kept secretly turning up the volume when I looked away, so I pretending it was the Cab mysteriously doing it to wind me up, he was beside himself with laughter! Which made me laugh so much I was teary eyed! I realised in that moment that sometimes its good to have just plain silly fun! the sort of fun you miss having with your children because they get olderer and more seriouserer…

Next time you get your grown up and ever so serious and edgy sons or daughters back home, greet them with a water pistol at the door! you might get your children back… just for a while…

Until next time.

Contact me to contact you?

FORGET feeding the stupid fish on your right, I'm going to rant! and I want you, Someone, anyone, to listen... well! You're not going to stop me (are you?) Good!


Then let this rant begin...


The era we are in is an age of instant and convenient communication, with all its various electronic forms that are now available, (I'm not going to bore you with what they are because you know what they are don't you?)


Nowadays to communicate a problem, report an error, seen an easily correctable omission, have a complaint, etc, etc, all companies, organisations, charity's, accountable public services, now have their own form of electronic communication to enable to one to quickly communicate a problem. Right? Well, dear reader you are wrong...

The call centre

I am suitably chastised enough to phone them, I'm put on hold, I listen to music numbing my temporal lobes, I answer ten security questions, confirmed my identity and now they are happy to speak to me, (they didn't ask if I am happy to speak to them though) the computer is down or slow, (probably an excuse on the front page of the customer service laminated card they are holding or doodling on,) anyway it's irrelevant because my compliant is irrelevant because what I'm complaining about is how the system is and cannot be overruled.


I'm insistent, my tone of voice is suitably in command mode and I do that by standing up and breathing from my diaphragm, maybe he is doing the same, I demand to speak to another automaton a little bit more salaried than him. I get my wish...nearly, they take my number, will ring me back. I've been 47 minutes on the phone and grateful for a break, I run to loo with phone in hand for when they ring me back...


They ring me back (2 hours later) I'm worried that the fact someone has even bothered to ring me back has far too easily impressed me.


I answer 10 security questions again, this time hopeful of a satisfactory ending to my call and looking forward to popping downstairs for a deserved coffee and a guilty sweet from the cupboard.


I spend the next ten minutes abbreviating what I spent 40 minutes doing in the previous call, he tells me this call came thru to him (although he is the right man, and "they" rang me!) in an unsolicited way (what??) and hangs up. Thank you The Nationwide Building a problem Society, thanks a lot. Nothing achieved.

The email

I love my local newspaper no! I really mean it! Its a great local read and they have some great people working there! I like them so much so in fact, on being invited to do so, I now write a weekly column for them, which I enjoy doing, but they have the same non urgency as almost all organisations have. But I have questions, things I'm unsure of, I send an email, in fact, I usually send two! and cc another, (y'now, just in case) I get no reply, you think, well, maybe it was a silly question, after all these guys are expert busy writers right? unfortunately my questions remain for the moment unanswered.


Well! not to thwarted and ignored in a seemingly now common and trendy fashion, I'll try their twitter page! whilst there, I see errors in a link, which happens to be about a taxi driver, the daft muppet gets robbed with a stupid amount of money on him. (Nobody has questioned WHY he had a lot of money on him?) and the link to that story goes unbelievably instead to the Canadian veterinary society website!! but I'm moving away from my rant, and in any case, The reply I got was...Tada! Nothing.


Recently a well written letter was published in my wonderful local paper that I champion AND promote, the letter included an email address inviting suitable responses, I felt compelled to respond and reply a carefully crafted concise and may I say informative email to her. Again...nothing.


I have a problem with litter and some mild vandalism I write to the appropriate department in my local council a month has gone by and...nothing.

The Twitter "thing"

I reply or comment to people on twitter and await a response, nothing.


WHY would anybody want to follow ANYBODY on twitter that doesn't respond to a question or reply to a comment that is obviously DEMANDING a response is beyond me!
pose a question on twitter get replies and never respond! kick these egos into electronic heaven.

The whole point of rant

My whole point about this "rant" soap boxed and rambling though it is, is that nobody cares, no eye contact with humans, our social skills are now honed and determined by a committee of whatever organisation you happen to contact, the worst of it is, that any semblance of courtesy or manners you may or may not have been brought up with, is being slowly eroded and replaced by consensus of committee.


If you have been brought up with the afore mentioned great human qualities of courtesy and good manners, be warned these are slowly being replaced by committee led customer service dogma, OR, if you haven't been brought up with courtesy and manners, for you, fortunately You have been taught by your good old customer service handbook and may it serve you well.


Keith


Now feed the fish. Rant over.

A history of Taxi driving AND tweeting down through the ages. Lush eh?

Dear dribbling reader, I’m going to take you back…way back, through the mists of time, a journey of total pointlessness, but nevertheless an unnecessarily under dramatized account of my life as a cab driver in the past.

Twitter is a recent phenomenon that has somewhat replaced the diary, so I have included excerpts from my actual hand written diaries, I wrote them on actual paper that apparently comes from trees. So as my Twitter type scribblings are now fashionable again, this is a badly written attempt to enlighten. So, before you read from the very bowels of my diaries here are some facts...

The licensed taxi trade is the oldest form of regulated public transport system in the world. In 1636 Charles the first issued the very first proclamation for 50 hackney carriages, in 1654 Cromwell set up the fellowship of master hackney carriages by act of parliament and taxi driving became a profession.

At the beginning of the 19th century, the first lighter two wheeled “cabs” came over from France. The name comes from the French meaning “jump like a goat“ because they bounced all over the place! (Bit like mine then!)

The hackney carriage term comes from the word “hacquenee” and was a French term used for a work horse, it literally means ambling nag!

Wilhelm Bruhn invented the taximeter in 1891, and to the dislike of taxi drivers who’s wages became regulated (are your wages regulated?) he was thrown into a river by drivers.

Hackney carriage drivers on long journeys did it in “stages” also picking people up at designated points along the way, as this part of the trade grew they became omnibuses and then into the bus transport systems we have today.


And 325 years later along came little old me! I wrote these into my diary long before Twitter and blogs came into our lives…

-1654- That Cromwell is trying to get us blokes licensed to pick people up! Ha! That'll never work!  This "tweet" isn’t real by the way, only Samuel Pepys was doing ye olde twitter  back then…


-1979- Bloke tried to pay me with empty beer bottles! made him go into the off sales of the pub to get the money on them to pay me.

-1979- That Mrs Thatcher seems alright, what's the worst that can happen? She will probably paint number tens door pink but that’s about it…


-1982- I found glitter make up, a laddered stocking, and a little bottle of Brut, men! They are worse than women these days…

-1986- Might treat myself and get me one of them velour track suits, might surprise the Mrs and get her a matching one...

-1987- A little yuppy bloke got in with one of them new mobile phones, he couldn't  even lift the battery onto his lap!

-1988- Blokes got the hump because my cassette deck has munched his mix tape, just pulling out the last mile of tape from it now…

-1989- I'm liking my new wooden ball seat cover, I know! I know! I'm a little show off!

-1990- Lady in back sprayed hair lacquer over her hair, glad I didn’t have a fag on, would have been blown to bits...

-1990- Found a Snickers chocolate bar in the back, whatever that is? Anyhoo! It tastes like a marathon…


Right! I’m off to get on my ambling nag and bounce off down the road like a jumping goat and earn some legally capped regulated money! Oh! And Thanks, Charles I, Cromwell, AND Charles II thanks a lot…

Until next time…

And you think you can handle being bullied?

I am being Bullied. I write what I cannot believe, I am ostracised, belittled, Lied about in an unrelenting and devious way, It's a silent but all purveying torture.

I am strong, I'm honest, And I wish the Bully well, I wish this person good health, I don't wish this person any ill will or a downfall, I just wish for this person to stop and leave me alone.

my health suffers, The pain is much worse than my cancer, I cant numb the pain with a drug, I can't sleep for it to be gone in the morning.

My thoughts are consumed by the unbelievable truth that, I am being bullied.

My tough poverty stricken upbringing that taught me right from wrong and all of its consequences, strangely stops me from retaliation , the very thing, perhaps that is needed. But you don't hit people, you don't speak ill of another, but shamefully alas you do, hate swells within me, a force somewhere deep within wants this person ripped to pieces,torn soulfully from body and sent to a hell where they will harm no other.

It's a silent yet glaringly loud attack on me that my "colleagues" watch with, perhaps a tinge of sadistic pleasure, watching someone shrink in stature and respect,less than them, a figure of distaste.

I hold my head high and smile at them, I even protest my lot to them, they do and say nothing, perhaps even the odd soundbite that they have heard or read somewhere that seems appropriate to this situation, enough for them to walk away and not get involved for they're fear is, it will not touch them, that the bully wont come for them and keep focusing on me instead.

It doesn't affect they're finances to a degree that is causing real anguish, Bills unpaid, left to fester on the table at home growing larger than you will admit..I stare at backs, at disinterest, at financial ruin.


The Bully denies you, "it" stops sending financial sustenance your way, It shuts down your communication pathways to the help at the top you need, It poisons your colleagues and once allies against you, you are shut off from them and hope YOU go away so they don't have to be part of the problem no more, they're backs turned on you, in a friendly sick play at being blind to a problem. They greet you with either, eyes glazed and fixed to the floor, a pretence that something more important has caught they're eye, or it's a smirk, a gloat, a smile, secretly and sadistically enjoying the spectacle of a bullied now sub underling, and glad and happy it's not them.


Well! follow through they're twisted logic there must be something in it right? I must be " a wrong 'un" perhaps someone a bit dodgy, in any case whatever they think or even not think, the value the situation, MY situation is less important than say, who's gonna buy the coffee today?


More disturbing are my letters of concern to the man in charge, not only unbelievably unanswered, but treated WITH anger upon receiving them! they are even paraded and quoted aloud to the other staff, to be dissected and shut down as pure rubbish, well, I AM causing the trouble and inconvenience right?

I have been at my job for over ten years now, a job that in itself carries many dangers, seen 3 to 4 owners come and go, and all this trouble has taken place only within the last seven or so months.

I am in remission for Bowel cancer, at diagnoses I was given 9 months left to live, after surgery and treatment and nearly a year of rest I am still here. as a result of half my colon and rectum, muscle, and my complete body cavity that is devoid of lymph nodes and other bits, I am in constant pain. I take medication to enable me to work and not need a toilet, at best for an hour or so at any one time. My cancer has taken any control I ever had over my bodily functions now and forever or whenever my cancer, (another bully that delights in letting me know it is still there)maybe will return one day to wreck more havoc on me.

So.. I need to use a toilet right? well, that safe lifeline of the use of a toilet has been cut off from me, I sit in my cab in the cold, away from the office, having to "disappear" to use a public toilet (if you can find one after 9pm in this town) I can even hear the laughter that the bully, (that my colleagues love to hate), share as well as the warmth and copious amounts of hot tea and coffee and good mirth and that safe camaraderie that workmates enjoy.

My time, my mostly happy times with this company are nearly at an end, I will drive a taxicab probably for someone else, my writing brings me comfort and comments from people from all over the world, I come across as a cheeky chappy taxi driver, and most of the time that's exactly what I am.

The Bully? this person has now moved on, surrounded as am I, no doubt with a loving family and friends, this person will no doubt also continue to spread the vile acid to which this person has an infamy for. I wish this person happiness, I pray my Hebrew prayers, hoping one of them will get through and shine a light of enlightenment into this persons life. god bless you and your family.

The man in charge? well, not a boss really is he? but he feels a victim too. BUT he justifies AND is in judgement, he is/was the key to my salvation, a lifeboat to my finances and also the key to my undoing. He could have given me work at any time to make up the shortfall, but made a distinct effort not to.

I am "old school" I guess,one of the last few of the previous regime, He is blissfully unaware that it is the very same " old school" staff to which there is now but a few, that provides the most loyalty and not one of his cliquey little favourites, a new owner come brush always sweeps clean, I've seen it before, and no doubt I will again.

This is a long and heavy piece you are dissecting dear reader, but please read on...


I have endured a torturous and beleaguered past, poverty on a third world scale, a beloved mother who beat and tortured with an anger that would rock the very earth itself, A beloved father that stood by and watched, neither loving nor hating, just...nothing.

My parents are gone now, my mother through chemical poisoning (a phrase oft used in a coroners court to really mean suicide), and quite recently my father to cancer and two of my beloved little sisters, nephews, uncles, aunts and dear friends, the list continues to grow maybe now albeit through old age. A normal death seems...attractive.

My death? ha! Cancer MOST probably! but I will continue! have no doubt, and with complete contempt for this disease too! ( you couldn't see my middle finger shoot up then could you!)

Nearly over for you dear reader, we will both have a cup of something when we both have read and written to the end.

I was a captain of industry, not of small insignificant cab offices, but a giant national company, a mover and a shaker, commanding hundreds, and affecting thousands.

I was in fashion, running some of the biggest and most prestigious address's in the country.

I was a business man, head of my own little empire.

I was a strippers runner, and when homeless and sleeping by bins and warm air con ducts at only 14yrs of age, I begged and stole to survive in Soho, London.

I stopped Bullies in my employ, I crushed them, shut them down and moved them on, I have never been helpless I have been the helper, but in this situation got no help,

I am sad.

But one thing is for sure, I'm not beaten, beaten down briefly by very small insignificant people, but will not be beaten down...ever.

I'll speak of this no more...to anyone...

Lets have that cuppa now eh?

Keith.

Sometimes people leave something of themselves behind...

 This Originally appeared in my column for the HastingsObserver.co.uk.

Hello all!


When I do my job, sometimes, people leave something of themselves with me, it is something that they impart, sometimes it is a wisdom that belies their years and social upbringing, sometimes its a despair and a grief of a kind that will leave you reeling with its potency, sometimes it is an injustice of life and crushing officialdom.

I’m sharing with you some of the moments that made me stop, made me contemplate that everybody, you and me, are a moment away from helplessness, a letter away from homelessness, and a heartbeat away from happiness.


These are short, they are my immediate thoughts I documented on Twitter as these dear souls left my Cab. I wont elaborate on any of them, there is no need to.


-She's been beaten by him too many times to count, battled scarred and broken, she is going to take him back tomorrow, because the kids love him and miss him...


-Young man back at his dad's house, his wife left him three years ago, he has just found his school sweetheart on facebook after trying to find her for 10yrs! Now their life is good, oh something's in my eye…


-Took someone home that clearly needs a break from the bad things in life, wish sometimes I could do something to take pain away.


-Woman crying, her son walked out of a first floor window 7 yrs ago, sat with her till she stopped. She says she has two children left, I told her that she has three children, always and forever three. I'm thinking about my own parents and sisters that I have lost. Other peoples grief can make your own resurface can’t it.


-His wife has stopped him seeing his children, even told him the 8, 7, and 2yr old are not his. He eyes were red and sodden, he looked beaten, Why do this? This evil is too common now...


-“I’ve not got long to live you know! she has been saying that for the last 10 years! Eyesight getting worse though because she never recognizes me...I wonder what she craves for…


-Just saw homeless ex-taxi driver, he wont accept help, hard to drive on by sometimes...


-She self harms, only looks twelve, she is 19. Social services has owned her son for a year now, she left an abusive relationship and started anew, alone. She dreams of seeing him again one day, didn’t take her money.


-She's leaving after 16 yrs in her job, the party was fine, armfuls of flowers, face full of well wished kisses, now crying alone in the back…


-Woman lived in rural Ireland with her husband for 35yrs, she has now been replaced with 25yr old Thai girl, She is now 73, alone and scared, I held her hand for a while…


-Seven years ago, I met a young girl covered in eczema, a loner, no shine, given up....saw her tonight! happy, shining, loads of pals...hope eh?


-Cool dude kisses all his friends goodnight gets into the cab and burst into tears, his mum died tonight and he didn’t tell his friends...


-He got in the cab and handed me his pizza and fell asleep, I woke him at his destination, he paid me, wandered off and forgot his pizza, so I gave it to homeless Dave...


A dear friend of mine has just ended a hard fought, hard to keep, fragile relationship, and despite the poems and the in-depth deep and intelligent analysis, sometimes it is best to just walk away, and I hope one day she does, and finds happiness along the way…don’t we all deserve at least that?




Until next time.

The taxi drivers handbook...

 This originally appeared in my column at HastingsObserver.co.uk

I’d like to take you through the Taxi drivers hand book provided by the illustrious and benevolent council who's rules I am forced to work under.


You can tell the depth of experience and knowledge that went into the “Taxi Bible” a document that defines, educates and confuses the average common Cab driver.  Until now it has been hidden from the public only ever to have its sacred pages thumbed by Hackney Carriage Masters of the craft.

So for the first time ever, may I present to you this sacred text…
 


1. When your customers comb-over has flopped over don't offer to comb it back for him and lick down the straggly bit...

2. If you unfortunately break down, tie your passengers to your waist and do a walking taxi to their destination...

3. When asked do you do “A set fare?” explain that you had loads of them earlier on, but have now sold out...

4. When you tell off a gay guy for his bad language, behaviour and bad shoes, don't put your hand on your hip, as you will look like your having a row with your boyfriend.

5. When a drunk falls asleep on your shoulder, and you want to avoid the possibility that he might hurt himself, please don't hang him from the mirror with his scarf to keep him upright, the police don't like it.

5.5 When asked if Lidles sell hair dye and upon arriving it has just shut, offer your black marker pen as an alternative...

6. When your customer "feeder" fattens you regularly with chocolates, start dropping hints for other stuff like pot roasts.

7. Don’t try to cheer up a landlady who's pub is on fire...

8. When drunken people want to go to the airport and they wont shut up, quieten them with the 1hr version of the trip instead of the usual legal 2hr version.

9. When asked can you take his bitch home, don't automatically assume he means his girlfriend, especially if he has a dog on a lead at the time.

10. If your passenger breaks wind in the cab, DON'T wind the window down! Because that's a clear admission of guilt...

11. The Cab is a device that locates and transports drunken Muppets in the dark, if you lose 'em we will find them. Always have the A-team theme music playing while driving them home...

12. When your customer is on the phone organising botox injections for herself, resist the urge to talk about formaldehyde...

there isn't a 13. When you throw out a foreign student because he wants you to find his banana, remember it could be his bandana he has lost down the side of the seat...

14. When someone shoots you with their finger gun, unleash your surface to air middle finger back at them...

15. When doctors, teachers and councillors HAVE to tell you what they do for a living, remember that they suffer from a form of tourette syndrome…

16. Don't let anyone in the cab with an Axe, unless its Halloween, and then only if it’s plastic and held by a little fat bloke...

17. When prostitutes ask you to hold something make sure its been cleaned first...

18. Don’t take home near naked wrestlers that have been plying their trade in a pool filled with jelly in a pub…

19. Refrain from taking cuttings from customers gardens If you have turned up ten minutes too early.

20. When your local MP is also an investment banker and venture capitalist, do bring your investment portfolio with you to her next surgery.

21. Do not to let a trendy person see you crying with laughter when he's just dropped his iphone down the drain outside a bar.


That’s all the elders would allow me to show you, maybe in time, perhaps in another thousand years, a photocopy of the next page can be cut and pasted for your discerning perusal.

What makes a Taxi driver?

This originally appeared in my column at HastingsObserver.co.uk

Hello Observer sufferers …Erm…I mean surfers.


On Twitter, I read that apparently in a recent study, scientists have found a new nucleic compound in a DNA sample found at the retreat for wayward taxi drivers and rehab centre for kebab deliverers…


This new compound is called Uravinalaff a neo peptide sequence often found in bees brains, as they seem to get to where they are going, and are prone to the odd double back and zigzag across town…


Another further two complex compounds common in Kitkats and soup are urnotgetinthatin and mibootmatey, these are exclusive to the English local council compliant, extortionate fee and council tax paying hackney carriage licence holder…


So, to recap, Uravinalaff, Urnotgetinthatin, Mebootmatey are all exclusive to taxi drivers DNA, As well as an exclusively enlarged part of the brain called, the…um...Hippycamp… Hypocrit… Hippocamp…Oh! never mind…It’s located up there between the eyes somewhere…


Come on over to my Twitter.com/mr_taxi_man site where I talk mostly rubbish there too, but on an almost hourly basis.


Apart from a collection of complex DNA strings and various other convenient ironmongery, below, are something’s we also are…(Yes! I know! that’s terrible English isn’t it?)

Cab drivers are also Dieticians…

-We can advise on most foods that are barely consumable, and dispense advice such as, not eating kebabs and burgers with chips in the cab, and we don’t care if you’re willing to share it either! Also boiling pots of potatoes aren’t well received even if you have done them for your mum…

Cab drivers are fairly broad minded…

-Speaking personally I’m prone to worry a bit, when the two guys in the back are going on about this hot brunette they’ve seen and then I begin to realise they are talking about me…

Cab drivers often have to refrain…

-Refrain from speaking to certain types of women, especially when they look all reflectful and start sighing and say things like, " Oh! I wish I could think like a man" and all I'm thinking is; hurry up, pay me, get out...

Cab drivers have a keen eye for detail like…

-When you have just seen a cat and a dog followed by a hopping one legged seagull, running down the road, you immediately begin to wonder if Disney are doing one of those “Quest across the vast expanses to find their long lost owner” movie remakes,, and you also start to wonder where the hidden cameras are…

Cab drivers are known expert Fashionistas, (Next time you are in a cab look how well dressed he or she is! )

-It upset me and my sense of fashion when I saw this chap wearing skinny jeans which were clearly made for skinny people, combined with his extremely white belly that was hanging over his big belt made of bullets that were sadly…dummies!


-His mate by contrast is the opposite, a skinny bloke wearing baggy jeans that are obviously designed for bigger people, the jeans hang halfway down his boney thin thighs. The fact that he has no eyebrows and wearing a red Beanie hat, only made him look like a swan vesta matchstick!


I think it is your DUTY to phone the local fashion police if you see this couple near your Prada shoes and bag, as it will devalue your investment in your fineries…The emergency number is Gok one, Gok one, Gok one, if you ever see a fashion accident about to happen by the way…

More twitterings…

-Bare midriffs are good thing...normally! This ones tummy swallowed her belly button jewellery AND my elbow when she got in....

Cab drivers overhear things like…

-When I'm outside a late night bar in Hastings, and five guys are sharing the same cigarette and the same pint, and are discussing whether to go to school or not tomorrow...

Cab drivers are discreet and say nothing…

-He’s bit her chin, I think he was aiming elsewhere, potholes eh?...


-I say Edna when this taxi driver puts his flipping foot down, we can both enjoy a nice cup of tea.

A cab driver and his cab are instant, cheap, emergency removal lorries…

-You are NOT putting a half ton bouncy castle on my roof, I don’t care if you don’t get it back in time you will lose your deposit…


-Some students when moving abodes, think they are the first to come up with the brainwave idea of getting a cab to move them the 300 yards to the new flat that’s £1.20 a week cheaper than the one they are in! They stand on the pavement with 75 full black plastic bags. I sometimes drive past laughing so hard I hurt myself…




As you can see, the common Taxi driver is a wonder of nature, a divine movement of swift grace and change, (in all denominations except two pence’s), a thoughtful human of moderate girth, full of mirth, seen a few births and slapped a few Smurfs, (we get Muppets too, but mostly on Fridays.)


Right! I’m off to wash my Dior dungarees in the sink, because my washing machine is full of my Burberry twin sets and the Day-Glo beanie hats I got from the local fashion police auction.


Until next time!

In the style of Twitter...

 This originally appeared in my column at HastingsObserver.co.uk

Hello Observers!


Yet again in the true vein and style of Twitter, I have for you some more experiences written originally as tweets (a short form sentence of up to 140 characters) and expanded for more clarity.


I have been asked why I don’t comment about local issues and topical stories in and around our lovely area. In a way I feel I do, what people say and think and act is a reflection of our local culture at the ground level.


I’ll leave the serious debates to the big boys of the Observer and the comments pages!

So, here are more stories about our residents!

Would you like some facts about me? you would! Blimey! I so happen to have some facts about my person, facts like…


-I sold shoes to the Harlem globetrotters…


-I keep a hoop and stick in the back of the Cab in case I break down…


-I can sew, and do a mean cushion…

Be careful what you wish for…

-Last year, Feeling Hungry, a dead seagull fell out of the sky by my Cab…my immediate thought was, next time, I must think of HOT food...

Things happen to me like…

-Either someone is throwing eggs at me from the building I’m next to, or a passing seagull has prematurely given birth mid flight…


-I hate having to “join in”, forced by hen night lovelies to wear a pink wig and it’s SO not a good look for me…

Oh! the things I’ve seen, I wish I hadn’t…

-Rather large woman passed me on a bike and um… couldn’t see the seat, I’m SURE it had a seat, but it wasn’t erm… visible!


-I found the mechanics spanner, it was still attached to the nut that I’m sure he WAS going to do up...

I know better…

-Why do gay men think they know better? I SO wouldn’t have picked THAT top with THOSE shoes!


-…and no! You are NOT entitled to your opinion! And that’s my INFORMED opinion so there!

Some people I wish I could have helped…

-I picked out a small elderly lady in the dark outside my office, Scared and jostled by the drunk and boisterous, I smiled, took her hand, put her in the Cab and drove her home…


-She is crying next to me in the cab, her pram and dolls safely in the back, she is seriously disturbed and she now lives in a home yet they allow her out alone I worry for her... (7yrs ago, she has now passed away)


- It took an hour to soothe a soul that has clearly given up…won’t ever know if it worked...


-Lady lost her best friend to cancer today, sat with her as long as I could, she left the cab smiling. Hope I helped with my cheeky gob...


-I can’t really look after your dog for an hour, I have to work you see, and… oh! please don’t cry! oh dear! He is a vulnerable old man going to the doctors and hasn’t got a lead for his dog, so I bought him some string…

Laws of Nature unobserved…

-Physical laws decree that balancing a box of chips in garlic sauce on your knee whilst waving to your mates when I'm turning a corner, won’t work, good job I have cat like reflexes and can steer with one knee…


-When you throw a bottle at a Taxi Driver, make sure your aim is good, as it will hit my tyre at the correct velocity and speed for my tyre to kiss it and send back to the exact point of the launching…the bottle by the way didn’t break on contact with his face, but Ooo! I’m sure it left a mark…


That’s it for this week! And as I’m scribbling away on my pad in the town centre I’ve just seen Three Vikings chasing a giant bee, I bet he's been pollinating again! Tsk tsk! AND a chap in a hoody walking past me wearing quality shiny black shoes, he's either upgrading gradually or has been out mugging again…




Until next time!

cybermen and holidays...

 This originally appeared in my column for HastingsObserver.co.uk

Hello Observers of Hastings!


I’ve been on my Holidays! To Lake Garda, Limone to be precise, perhaps one of the most civilised places I’ve ever been to! An idyllic landscape and location. Had a few firsts for me whilst there like…
-I went in a cable car to the top of a 9000ft mountain, despite my fear of heights

-I went to a 98% German speaking Italian alpine village, where every road sign is in three languages Italian, German and Ladin ( A Celtic Roman-Latin language)

-I had a snowball thrown at me despite it being 38 Celsius at ground level

-I learned the value of oxygen, and how much less of it there is nearly two miles up!

-Had a ride in a Gondola and saw the tide coming up through the pavement outside St Marks Basilica in Venice!


-My wife had me screaming and like a girly, she chased me in the pool because of the underwater raspberry blowing belly incident...apparently women don’t like that…


Anyhoo! back on the ground now, and the redness from my slapped bottom is going down quite nicely. Did anything happen? Here then, are more sillies that have happened in the cab over the years and is featured unedited on my Twitter.com/Mr_Taxi_man page on the Interweb thingy!

Some things just happen…

-PLEASE! “Don’t take your clothes off in the cab” I tell a near naked woman, Oh! ok.. A surprise for your husband? I see! Erm… can you um… sit on this cloth then? Nah! Don’t want it back, you keep it.


-Four supermen in my cab, not one, four! and when you need one? They’re nowhere to be seen…


-I took a girl into town with long straight hair…when I took her home, it was short and curly! The power of a hot iron versus the power of rain eh?


-You've got dirt on your wedding dress? Well laying on my bonnet with your new husband didn’t help did it?


-One minute I’m putting a binge drinker in a hedge, the next, the road is blocked by a dozen dark horses just standing around in the dark!


-You like the idea of an alternative universe? Why? So you can annoy the other “me” in the other one as well?


-Outside the Frenches pub, A man dressed as Batman is arguing with Robin ’cos he forgot the fags, he tells Robin he's a big woman’s private bits, er…apparently.

Sometimes they are sort of famous…

-That Carol Mcgiffin, she was in my cab once, very drunk, thong pulled up her back, and fell out of the back door…


-I chased a lorry for Lenny Henry through the streets of London for ten minutes because he was expecting a sofa...but it was the wrong lorry!


-I took a Cyber man from Doctor Who to a photo shoot, I sat him in the front with me, with a seat belt on, I felt so sorry for that cyclist who crashed into that bus shelter…oops!

How was I supposed to know?

-How was I supposed to know that the bag I put my sandwiches in, was a sanitary bag? I thought the little lady on the bag was sort of cute!


-How was I supposed to know that her Henry, that had outlived his usefulness and was going to put in a skip was a vacuum cleaner? I thought she was talking about her dog or cat or possibly her Hubby!

The little devil in me…

I deliberately reversed slowly backwards, and the drunk couldn’t work out why he didn’t get any nearer! So he punched his legs and told them to hurry up!


No! I can’t drive as the crow flies! I have to use roads that are all sort of turny and twisty and uppy and downy and stoppy and starty…


That’s it from me for this week, I hope that what you read in this column cheers you up! It certainly gave me a chuckle at the time (or left me speechless) …which is hard really because I have so much to say and…Oh! never mind…


And remember, feel free to comment on my Twitter site (twitter.com/Mr_taxi_man) about anything you read here, I am happy to respond as I fully embrace change, in particular 10p and 20p pieces…


Until next time!

Hello I'm That Mr Taximan Fella

 This originally appeared in my column online for the HastingsObserver.co.uk.

Alright Alright!

You can uncuff me now and remove the blindfold, I’ll do this blog. I didn’t think the Observer would ACTUALLY send the boys around! (I’m sure they said do a blag- I told ‘em I don’t do that anymore and…um, ok moving on…)

Hello! My Name is Keith, I drive a Cab for my sins, I have for some time now, written about my experiences with my customers on http://twitter.com/Mr_taxi_man Its all about the good, bad, funny and sad and poignant tales that cross my path over the years.


For example, (Ooo! I sound like a salesman!)

Things I’d learnt.

-I’ve learnt that I’d wished I had kept the gold stars that Sister Mary gave me at school. that'd show Mr clever clogs I pick up on weds...


-I've learnt not to trip and fall on top of old people when they have JUST left hospital...


-I've learnt that the mushroom bags from Tesco’s make great sick bags...


-I've learnt that replacing the passenger airbag with a breeze block wasn't one of my best ideas..


-I've learnt that when a drunk falls asleep on your bonnet, and your good at reversing, you can use your cab just like a spatula..


-I've learnt when a woman inquires If she is attractive that I must remember its shabby chic and not chubby chick...


-I've learnt to give way to my right when a "large person" is unconscious in the road...


-I’ve learnt that you spend hours nervously writing a blog for a newspaper, then write something completely different…


That’s 260 words so far, 200 to go, “They” want 450 words a week, or the “boys” will be back! People (and myself included ) also say and do stupid things in and out of my cab, things like…


-Eventually I woke him and he fell out of the cab! fortunately the nettle bush he fell face first into saved him...


-A very drunk lady told me to get lost… I told her I couldn’t because I know where I'm going...


-My Macmillan nurse asked me if I had any weight loss... I Told her I've been consistently fat...


-What's the furthest you've gone? she asked, "down to my pants" I replied...then I realised she meant distance…


-Idiot just slammed my door into a post, needs a good beating now! the door, not the Idiot…Well...maybe both.


-Just saw a police woman texting on her phone and walk straight into a lamp post! Oh! how I laughed a little bit...


-Er..No! I don’t do cash back…This isn’t Tesco cabs…well not yet anyway.

Sad things also happen, things that ground me as a person, they makes me think and reflect on life and its frailties, things like…

-They are very much in love, drugs taken their toll, either can barely walk, there was a kind of wisdom in they're softly spoken words, humbling..


-Took south African woman home from hospital, moved here to get away from the violence she was encountering in her home country and tonight her husband died...


-Woman who lived in rural Eire with her husband for 35yrs has now been replaced with 20yr old Thai girl, now 73,she is alone and scared, I held her hand for a while…


Well! That’s a small taste of what I do, all of life is here in Hastings and St Leonard’s right under our noses! don’t expect me to talk down this great town we all live in.. all of the ups and downs of life, love and the quirky are here! And I will be watching…and spilling the beans every now and again..


For the Unedited raw tweets click http://twitter.com/mr_taxi_man go to favourites to access the near worthy scribblings and say hello! I’d love to hear your comments!


Well…see you soon then…Shh! the Observer “bad boys” tied me to a chair to write this! um…just saying.

Until next time!