Full Circle(2)

Whilst driving taxis I rarely carry an old friend or old acquaintance, which is unsurprising given there are over 5,000 cabs in Sydney. Though driving around one’s home town is a memory-rich environment of old haunts...

At the Empire Hotel the other morning; before the wounded puppy, the lying prostitute and the Broadway prick; four rowdy young revellers tumbled out of the pub and into the cab. A female sat up front and ordered an old familiar address in the Eastern suburbs.

It was an obscure street in exclusive Bellevue Hill, where I’d worked prior to becoming a taxi driver. Unfortunately though, a recurring back injury had forced my early resignation from one of the best jobs in Sydney. As the passengers conversed freely amongst themselves I was transported, literally and metaphorically, back to another era.

Once per week for some eight years I’d worked at a family residence as a private groundsman, maintaining choice gardens, lawns, and a pool, with world-class Harbour views. The position included a late model vehicle plus a generous wage and conditions. Most importantly though, the owners and their large family were unfailingly warm and inclusive of my person. A quality family who employed quality staff !

During that time I’d come to recognise the neighbours and their children, like the young woman sitting next to me in the taxi, some fifteen years later. Of course she didn’t know me from a bar of soap but I remember her climbing into her mother’s car each morning, going off to junior school in a dark olive uniform and a cream straw hat.

Being with friends in the cab she had no reason to address me personally but she did, right at the end when paying the fare. With the others having alighted and silence returning to the cab, she became aware of my presence and so asked, "What time do you finish ?"

This took me by surprise as I was still lost in memories whilst automatically processing her credit card. It was well after midnight and I could finish anytime really, but for some reason, absent-mindedly replied, "Umm...never...".

Full time cabbies will recognise this phenomena, how one shift becomes another so you never know whether you’re starting or finishing, let alone what night it is. We might log-out, but we never feel like we've truly finished.

Despite being fairly drunk my passenger had the good grace to farewell me with, "Well, even though you work an eternity, have a good night." A friendly late night sentiment in an old familiar street.

Comments

[Cabhack]

Nice...you're a good read Adrian!

Thanks

[yvette]

beautiful, poetic story!

[Bazz]

Shades of Harry Chapin ....

[CanberraCabbie]

Umm...never...

Gotta laugh. It feels like that sometimes. There's always another fare, another shift, another week. Maybe one day a cabbie will be replaced by a GPS, cruise control and a credit cad slot, but not for a while.