I've been attacked twice this year already, by middle-aged women who'd been drinking. Not really drunk, but enough to make them combative over my choice of route.
For example, extraordinary conditions like New Years Eve gridlock and road closures dictating that alternatives must be taken. But boy, some people can really turn it on.
One suspect such unreasonableness stems from the RBT forcing them to use a cab, something they are loathe to do at the best of times. And the booze doesn't help their tolerance.
In the second case, a short fare, the booking destination of North Bondi turned out to be bait, as the passenger climbed in and requested Bondi Beach. Fair enough.
Heading there, following signs to the beach, I was rounded upon as a total incompetent and the passenger demanded a different route. She actually lived a way back from the beach. Can't win.
One wrote down my number and the other departed with a predictable door slam. And all I could think of was they were finally gone, out of my life. Forever, hopefully.
One more shift tonight and I'm off for a week. Need the break. Time to celebrate the ordinary.