(no subject)

It's always boom or bust for the taxi industry in Canberra. Either we're flat out doing nothing, or we're full tilt.

Last night's shift was a fine example of this. On weekdays we're buzzing around in the arvo, getting everyone to the airport, taking workers home, and generally contributing to rush hur. Then it winds down and all of a sudden the several screens worth of outstanding work vanishes and we're all scratching around for stuff to do. This happens about seven, and I often have the chance to stop and get my dinner from Artoven. A frankfurt, mustard and onion roll, a rock cake, and a muggacino to go. The staff don't bother asking now; they see me walking in the door, they get cracking.

Yesterday (Saturday) was the reverse. We're all competing for work in the afternoon and then it gradually ramps up as people finish dinner and partying and want taxis home. Three in the morning work hits a peak. There'll be a long queue of people on the main Civic rank, tons of radio bookings, and people standing on street corners trying to flag down a cab.

I usually don't stop for street hails at this time unless they are female and waving a fifty. I very much prefer going to the head of the line and getting someone who's been lining up and doing the right thing. Chances are that they'll be a decent sort of person, unlikely to throw up, run off without paying, or beat me up.

On the other hand, someone who's bending the rules and trying to flag down a cab before it hits the rank, may well be less scrupulous as to behaviour.

I had to chuck a couple of blokes out at the head of the rank, though, and they weren't happy. Why oh why does someone think that they can hop in my nice clean cab with a half-eaten hamburger in their hand? They might say that they aren't going to eat it, but that's crap. I refused to drive off and they eventually got out and took the next cab. In exchange I got three very nice young people who were very pleased to have a nice cab.

I started driving about half three in the arvo, and by half four in the morning I was getting drained out. Droppedoff my pax, found a bit of dark and had a quick nap. Then over the other side of town to do a Silver Service airport run. Had a lovely talk with a delightful lady.

It was pretty heavy rain by that hour of the morning, and I felt for all the people in town who were queuing for a cab without any shelter. There was still forty left at six, so the despatcher informed us, but by that stage I was trying to make my own way home.

I responded to a couple of radio bookings, but they took me off in the wrong direction and eventually I just set my status to "Off duty", gassed up, vacuumed the cab, checked under the bonnet and drove back to the day driver's place in Gungahlin. 0730 by the time I was filling out the paperwork. Sixteen hours driving (apart from a brief nap and stops to gas up). I drove home in the bright grey morning, and when I unloaded the car, realised that I'd left my Day-Timer (with its cargo of cards and several hundred dollars cash), sitting in the door pocket of the cab.

So I got Kerri to drive me there and back. About an hour on top of my shift, but I was far too tired to drive safely. Pleasant to spend an hour with my wife, though, just driving and chatting and enjoying the scenery.

And then I fell into bed and slept like a log until late afternoon.

I wish I had more time to write up some of my adventures. Still haven't talked about the worst crash of my life three nights back.

Flash Car

Flash Car,
originally uploaded by skyring.

Saturday night, and I noticed a police car parked illegally on the Manuka taxi rank. Parked in that it was empty and locked. Maybe, I thought, the policemen are responding to some incident, but judging by the way they strolled back to their car a few minutes later with cups of coffee, I think not.

However, the interesting part was the numberplate. I could read the number quite clearly, but when I took this flash photograph, a strange thing happened: it turned into a blank white rectangle.

I took a few more photographs of regular cars that night and each time I was able to read the registration number easily in a flash photograph. I suspect that this police car numberplate has been treated in some way, perhaps sprayed with a high-gloss varnish, in order that so much light is reflected from a flash that the number can't be read.

What would happen if this car triggered a speed camera or a red light camera at night and the flash went off?

My guess is that no infringement report would be generated.

I was able to blow up the number plate region of this photograph and tweak the contrast and brightness. At extreme settings a number was visible. Some characters were only just legible.

The number was YEZ-51H