Lurgytime

[skyring]

Day before yesterday was day one of a cold. It hit me in the arvo just before starting my shift and I had no time to get a box of tablets. I was reduced to the headache tabs I keep in my bag, which didn't work well enough.

So I was feeling very seedy and starting to fill up hankies by about midnight. Yeah, I should have gone home, but it's a point of honour with me not to end a shift before I've reached a certain amount of money taken in. Not only does this help with saving up money for next year's trip, it makes me one of the top drivers in the fleet, which is why I get to drive my lovely silver limousine instead of a regular cab.

So there I was on the main Alinga Street rank some time after midnight. The two cars in front got passengers and pulled away, I moved up to first spot and waited for my next fare. And waited and waited. Half an hour, and I'd cranked the seat back and was wishing I was home in bed but still needed twenty odd dollars to make budget.

Finally a young man opened the door and sat down beside me. "Ah, just round the corner," he said.

"What?"

"Just go to the end of the street." He pointed to the Marcus Clarke corner, all of two short blocks away. "And turn right. I'm just round the corner."

So we off and went. Waiting for the lights was the longest part. He indicated a place across from the University Lodge and said, looking at the meter which read $5.10 and proffering a twenty, "Sorry about the short fare, take six or seven dollars."

Normally I wouldn't mind, but people had been giving me twenty dollar notes all night, and I was out of any notes smaller than a twenty. I was also short on gold coins, and I guess I could have scraped up fourteen dollars in coins, but it wouldn't have been a pretty sight and would have drained me completely.

"Do you have any coins?" I asked hopefully.

He dug around and hauled out two dollar coins, which he offered me. "This is all I've got."

I smiled and took them, but seeing that I've got to give half the metered fare to the owner, it meant that I was actually down fifty five cents. That was for an hour's work. I really don't mind if the fare is short, because I take the position that everyone has the same need to get home, and walking even a couple of blocks through a dark and lonely city centre can be a worry, but I was cursing the fact that I hadn't done something about change previously (actually, I had, a couple of times, but all my gains had been swallowed up on this night when nobody had anything but twenties), and I was feeling tired and ill.

Things got better after that. I got a couple of short fares which took me over my target, and then a longer one came along. By one thirty most of my competition had gone home and I had as much work as I could handle, but I was well and truly ready for bed, if not the scrapheap.

Yesterday I got some medication and I've been dosing myself up. I've still got the cold, but it's under control and I don't feel quite so rotten. Last night was an excellent shift and I made two hundred dollars and more over my target. I was happy with a string of chatty customers and they all had change. In fact I'm rolling in small notes and gold coins. Funny old life, isn't it?

Random breath testing on the Commonwealth Avenue Bridge approach. Usually taxis get waved through, but this time I got called in and breath-tested twice. As I hadn't had a drink since Monday night, I blew with gusto and good humour. Any taxidriver who drives while drunk deserves the harshest penalty, IMHO.

More of a worry was that both times the cops helpfully pointed out that the registration sticker expired at midnight.

Yeah, well, what could I do about it? Presumably the owner had renewed the rego and the new sticker was just sitting in at the workshop, waiting to be applied, but I wasn't going to quit working at midnight. In fact I went through until half three, thinking to myself, I love my job!

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[silvanime.livejournal.com]

And taxi drivers too, I hope!