Sleepy. Eggs.
Hassles with the Blogger Beta and my computer have thrown me off this blog since November.
Christmas was quiet, as was New Year's Eve, in Brisbane's taxis.
January and February were both incredibly quiet, so I've been doing some weekday shifts to get a few more quid together to pay for car repairs (my 30-year-old LandCruiser's floor had rusted out) and a trip to Sydney this weekend for the annual Freelancer's Convention.
Got started late (3pm) for the weekend single last Saturday, and had taken about $180 by 10pm, when a hail in Ann Street took me to the corner of my own street -- a rarity, in which you get paid to actually go home.
As things were still quiet (Friday and Saturday nights don't get busy for taxis in Brisbane until midnight, when there's a brief, 3-hour busy spurt until "lock-in" time for the nightclubs), and, as I was a bit tired, I went home for a couple of hours' sleep to catch the busy time after midnight.
I planned to wake up at midnight, or just after.
I woke up at 4am, and missed the whole bloody thing.
So it turned out to be a long Sunday for this little black duck -- a Sunday that started at 4.30am and didn't finish until 2am Monday. $640 on the meter for Sunday, however, was the good news.
And, luckily. no dickheads in the taxi.
Got a brand-new taxi for Monday night. Only 45,000km on the odometer, and it's first-ever shift as a taxi.
But the hail light didn't work.
And the meter -- a "Cabcharge" brand meter (which *all* taxis are going to have to get, due to a Federal Government decision -- was a type I've never used before. It made for an entertaining night.
And the taxi got christened.
The passenger (and her dog) came from Boondall, and the dog was old and sick. The veterinary surgery was at West Chermside -- a $22 taxi fare away -- and the route between Boondall and West Chermside took us down Maundrell Terrace and past the John Goss Reserve (a dark patch of parkland beside the road).
An egg hitting the windscreen at 60km/h makes quite a noise. We were lucky that it wasn't a rock.
Christmas was quiet, as was New Year's Eve, in Brisbane's taxis.
January and February were both incredibly quiet, so I've been doing some weekday shifts to get a few more quid together to pay for car repairs (my 30-year-old LandCruiser's floor had rusted out) and a trip to Sydney this weekend for the annual Freelancer's Convention.
Got started late (3pm) for the weekend single last Saturday, and had taken about $180 by 10pm, when a hail in Ann Street took me to the corner of my own street -- a rarity, in which you get paid to actually go home.
As things were still quiet (Friday and Saturday nights don't get busy for taxis in Brisbane until midnight, when there's a brief, 3-hour busy spurt until "lock-in" time for the nightclubs), and, as I was a bit tired, I went home for a couple of hours' sleep to catch the busy time after midnight.
I planned to wake up at midnight, or just after.
I woke up at 4am, and missed the whole bloody thing.
So it turned out to be a long Sunday for this little black duck -- a Sunday that started at 4.30am and didn't finish until 2am Monday. $640 on the meter for Sunday, however, was the good news.
And, luckily. no dickheads in the taxi.
Got a brand-new taxi for Monday night. Only 45,000km on the odometer, and it's first-ever shift as a taxi.
But the hail light didn't work.
And the meter -- a "Cabcharge" brand meter (which *all* taxis are going to have to get, due to a Federal Government decision -- was a type I've never used before. It made for an entertaining night.
And the taxi got christened.
The passenger (and her dog) came from Boondall, and the dog was old and sick. The veterinary surgery was at West Chermside -- a $22 taxi fare away -- and the route between Boondall and West Chermside took us down Maundrell Terrace and past the John Goss Reserve (a dark patch of parkland beside the road).
An egg hitting the windscreen at 60km/h makes quite a noise. We were lucky that it wasn't a rock.
posted by Roy Wilke at 1:29:00 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home