Embarrassing secrets from adolescence

She was from Dublin, and had an accent you could carve with a knife. Anyway, she and her two friends were heading into the Valley from their hotel in Toowong -- an $18 fare -- and she wanted me to change the radio station over from ABC NewsRadio to something she could sing along to.

Late-night passengers who want *their* choice of music in the cab can usually be right pains in the regions of the nether, but a good way of getting around it is by suggesting that they sing a-capella instead (a trick I learnt years ago when driving a wheelchair-accessible 10-seater).

So the trip down Milton Road was done to the accompaniment of the musical works of Jason Donovan. We all have an embarrassing secret from adolescence, and for the hopeful inheritor of Gerty McDowell it was a liking for Jason Donovan.

The next couple of fares, however, I could have well done without. An angry bloke, followed by a couple of argumentative teenage girls. The less said about the latter, the better. Suffice to say that it was the second time that night I went and hid from the fares so I could cool down (the first time was after a no-job due to some dingbat who taxi-raced (i.e.: book cabs with all the companies to see which one comes first).

There were plenty of good, polite fares too -- something I like about Sundays, and something that makes the shift feel more like a profitable playtime than 'work' -- but unfortunately two dickhead fares can easily cancel out the 30+ 'nice' people that preceded them.