Observations of a taxi driver

Women are notoriously bad at waiting until the taxi stops before getting their money out. They also take a particularly long time when you’re double parked in the middle of the road.

Some drunks think that they’re in a confessional. Too much info…!

When working at an international event, ie, the rugby, the Irish are by far the best to have in your taxi.

To the drunk who wet himself in my cab last week, sort yourself out.

Having drunk coffee from every coffee shop, Taylor St Baristas is not actually that nice. I don’t understand the hype.

People expect taxi drivers to know eveything, eg, the American last week who asked me where he can get chewing tobacco.

My name is not “cabbie.” That’s my job.

When people are in a hurry, you always get red lights. When you need a moment to look in the A to Z, all the lights are green.

If your cab’s going to break down, it always happens on a Friday or Saturday, when the garages close for the weekend.

I love it when people say, ‘I know the way,” because they direct me the long way and I get more money. They don’t trust me to know the shortest way and take me miles around using these little handheld Satnavs.

A woman once got in my cab and said, “I don’t know the address, driver, but I know it’s got a grey door.”

Another woman got in the cab and said, “Take me to my sister’s.” Upon being asked where her sister lives, she said, reproachfully, “Ohhh, all the taxi drivers know me.”

Getting in a taxi and saying, “Take me toward central London, as far as £5 will take me,” is a big waste of everyone’s time.

Attempting to pay by cheque in a taxi is not ok.

Australians never tip.