This is her problem not mine and yet… and yet…

Let me tell you the story.  I flew into Perth today from Geraldton where I’ve been the last couple of days – stories coming soon – I met so many interesting people – but anyway…

The queue for a taxi was exhaustingly long but I had my book and was quite happy to read it as I shoved my bag with my foot.  

As we waited a voice apologised over the PA system and said that taxis had been called.  

Fine, whatever… I’d got to a good bit.

Anyway eventually I’m at the front of the queue and I have a woman driver who looks friendly, she pops the boot and helps me load my small case and laptop.

“Where to love?”

“Please take me to work in the city.” I had to pick up my car.

Was it my imagination or did she sigh?

Anyway I settled back and read my book and sooner than I wanted – I’d got to another good bit – we were pulling up outside my workplace.

I hand over my cabcharge.

These days they are those little cards with a magnetic strip down the back – thinnish cardboard.

“Do you have another card?”

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“Thanks, I hate these cards, they never work in my machine – even when I use two together.”  She swipes the cards repeatedly.

“Dammit I’m going to have to use a slip.”

So making conversation – as you do in the awkward silence while waiting to sign the slip – I say “Are you just starting your shift?”

“Yes just started.  And I came all the way down Dianella for this.”

As if it were my fault.

I was speechless.

“Can you get your own bag out of the boot?”

“Er yes… of course.” I say and scoot out of the cab.

And I’m SO angry.

Angry at her for making me feel bad because she didn’t get a big fare to, I don’t know, Bunbury or something and even more angry with myself for feeling bad!

And the ironic thing?  As she drives off I notice that she’s the driver of a Silver Service cab.

Yeah.  Right.