Say G'day!
Oct. 24th, 2006 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringSay hello to Canberra's newest cabbie, and even after being dumped in at the deep end for my first shift, you still couldn't scrape the smile from my face with a shovel. They actually had to enlarge the photograph space on my new license to fit in the grin.
The day began with a haircut - I was leaving nothing to chance! Trim, tidy and tense, I looked in on a couple of the test destinations as a final check. Lyneham and O'Connor shops are easy enough to find, but if you are looking for the most efficient route between the two, it helps to do a test drive. I also checked out the "Wests @ Turner" club and ScreenSound Australia, both destinations on the test, on shaky ground with me, locationwise.
I arrived about 1105 for an 1130 test. I figured that this would show willing, and i could read up my driver's handbook on cab ettiquette and offences against the regulations, such as taking another driver's fare.
The door to the outside opened, and with a gust of hot dry air from the late spring weather outside, the examiner walked in, plus another chap who seemed to be smiling through his frown, if I may use such a phrase. This man of mixed emotions went to the counter and began the process of booking and paying for another test. Not a good sign, particularly as the young ladies behind the counter had smiled as they told me that the examiner was a darling.
Somewhat nervously I greeted him, and we went outside to my car, freshly washed and polished inside and out. He asked me to turn off the radio and then told me why he had failed the previous guy. "Lovely bloke, but he wouldn't stop talking. He even stopped at a green light, and that's a safety hazard."
I shut up from that point and listened real good!
First stop, as I'd predicted, was the Canberra railway station. Top marks there for Pete!
Then off to the War Memorial and when he specified a rear carpark, I began plotting a route through the back streets of Campbell. Probably about the same distance, but any cabbie worth his salt would have taken a passenger along Parkes Way and up Anzac Parade - always give a tourist a chance to appreciate the best views of the national capital!
"I won't take out a ruler and measure it, but that was an interesting route,: the examiner said with a hint of a smile.
Next destination was a street address and for that I was allowed to check the directory. Wickham Street in Forresst, a veryritzy address indeed - not one of my regular prowls but I only needed a glance check out the cross street from Mugga Way, and I knew how to get there.
By this stage I'd worked out that the examiner - an ex-policeman, he'd mentioned earlier - wasn't all that interested in route selection, but had a keen eye for any safety infringements. Luckily I'd been working on my driving style for weeks. Halting firmly on stop lines, both hands on the steering wheel, stick to the speed limits and so on.
Attention to detail, I'd been telling myself - you're going to be a professional driver and every other coot on the road will be watching you, ready to dial that number on the side of the cab if you step out of line.
We went past a school zone, and when he pointedly cleared his throat as I let the speed creep up a touch over the 40 km/hour limit, I hastily eased back. "Let's not spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar," he murmured, and at that point I began to relax. Obviously I was going to pass the test unless I did something totally insane.
The rest of the test - Red Hill shops and back to the cab base - was relaxation. Of course he waited until we were parked again before telling me I had passed.
The smiling began then. It look a long while to fade. brian appeared and gave me a certificate and a smile and I said I'd be off immediately to the registry in dickson, driving like...
"...like a cabbie!" he finished for me.
I took the shortest route to the registry, driving on the speed limit. It took me about half an hour to get all the documents worked out and a new license issued, the photograph showing one happy cabbie. Back home, into my uniform and back to the cab base for registration on the network. 1130 was the test time, and by 1330 I had jumped through all the hoops and become a fair dinkum cabbie.
Home again to strip off the uniform and commence packing for my weekend away in Adelaide. I gave the boss a ring to let him know my standing and that I'd be able to begin work on Monday.
He rang back in a few minutes. He had a car off the road - would I be interested in "taking it home, having a bit of a play with it, sort of self-guided training?"
I thought - or rather, didn't think - for about half a second. "Sure," I replied, "would I be able to take fares?"
"Yes," he said, and we arranged it. I was to pick up the cab in half an hour and work until I felt I had had enough for the night.
I put my uniform back on, climbed into my car, and headed off for my first shift in a new career.
The day began with a haircut - I was leaving nothing to chance! Trim, tidy and tense, I looked in on a couple of the test destinations as a final check. Lyneham and O'Connor shops are easy enough to find, but if you are looking for the most efficient route between the two, it helps to do a test drive. I also checked out the "Wests @ Turner" club and ScreenSound Australia, both destinations on the test, on shaky ground with me, locationwise.
I arrived about 1105 for an 1130 test. I figured that this would show willing, and i could read up my driver's handbook on cab ettiquette and offences against the regulations, such as taking another driver's fare.
The door to the outside opened, and with a gust of hot dry air from the late spring weather outside, the examiner walked in, plus another chap who seemed to be smiling through his frown, if I may use such a phrase. This man of mixed emotions went to the counter and began the process of booking and paying for another test. Not a good sign, particularly as the young ladies behind the counter had smiled as they told me that the examiner was a darling.
Somewhat nervously I greeted him, and we went outside to my car, freshly washed and polished inside and out. He asked me to turn off the radio and then told me why he had failed the previous guy. "Lovely bloke, but he wouldn't stop talking. He even stopped at a green light, and that's a safety hazard."
I shut up from that point and listened real good!
First stop, as I'd predicted, was the Canberra railway station. Top marks there for Pete!
Then off to the War Memorial and when he specified a rear carpark, I began plotting a route through the back streets of Campbell. Probably about the same distance, but any cabbie worth his salt would have taken a passenger along Parkes Way and up Anzac Parade - always give a tourist a chance to appreciate the best views of the national capital!
"I won't take out a ruler and measure it, but that was an interesting route,: the examiner said with a hint of a smile.
Next destination was a street address and for that I was allowed to check the directory. Wickham Street in Forresst, a veryritzy address indeed - not one of my regular prowls but I only needed a glance check out the cross street from Mugga Way, and I knew how to get there.
By this stage I'd worked out that the examiner - an ex-policeman, he'd mentioned earlier - wasn't all that interested in route selection, but had a keen eye for any safety infringements. Luckily I'd been working on my driving style for weeks. Halting firmly on stop lines, both hands on the steering wheel, stick to the speed limits and so on.
Attention to detail, I'd been telling myself - you're going to be a professional driver and every other coot on the road will be watching you, ready to dial that number on the side of the cab if you step out of line.
We went past a school zone, and when he pointedly cleared his throat as I let the speed creep up a touch over the 40 km/hour limit, I hastily eased back. "Let's not spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar," he murmured, and at that point I began to relax. Obviously I was going to pass the test unless I did something totally insane.
The rest of the test - Red Hill shops and back to the cab base - was relaxation. Of course he waited until we were parked again before telling me I had passed.
The smiling began then. It look a long while to fade. brian appeared and gave me a certificate and a smile and I said I'd be off immediately to the registry in dickson, driving like...
"...like a cabbie!" he finished for me.
I took the shortest route to the registry, driving on the speed limit. It took me about half an hour to get all the documents worked out and a new license issued, the photograph showing one happy cabbie. Back home, into my uniform and back to the cab base for registration on the network. 1130 was the test time, and by 1330 I had jumped through all the hoops and become a fair dinkum cabbie.
Home again to strip off the uniform and commence packing for my weekend away in Adelaide. I gave the boss a ring to let him know my standing and that I'd be able to begin work on Monday.
He rang back in a few minutes. He had a car off the road - would I be interested in "taking it home, having a bit of a play with it, sort of self-guided training?"
I thought - or rather, didn't think - for about half a second. "Sure," I replied, "would I be able to take fares?"
"Yes," he said, and we arranged it. I was to pick up the cab in half an hour and work until I felt I had had enough for the night.
I put my uniform back on, climbed into my car, and headed off for my first shift in a new career.
