I used to drive a taxi/cab. Why? I often ask myself that, it was a shitty job, but it got me through 2 years of university, so it served a purpose. I was telling a few stories from those days to a friend recently and it got me thinking that I should write these stories down before I forget them.
"Um, yeah, there's a guy..."
Another Saturday night, slowly drifting into a Sunday morning. I'm cruising, fare less, down Kings Park Ave when I see a guy standing at the lights. Somethings not exactly right though, you start to develop a sense for trouble after driving for a while. I have to drive past him, there's no turns between him and me and besides, I'm a little curious as to what he's doing.
I get to the red light and there it is in all of its glory. I can't help but laugh out loud as I reach for my microphone and contact base
Dispatch: "Go ahead 652"
Me: "Um, yeah there's a guy standing on the corner of Loftus St and Kings Park Ave that you should probably warn the other drivers about.."
Dispatch: "What seems to be the problem?"
Me: "Well, um, he's completely nude and he's kind of yelling at the sky"
Just another early morning on the streets of Perth.
You can read the other stories in the series so far by clicking the taxi label below