I MISS MY TAXI DRIVER!!
I thought about him last night as my head spun. I wished for him in my unsafe drunken state as I tried to get home. I had too many things going against me to catch a taxi (short fare, drunk, vulnerable), so I decided it wiser to walk. Today, I still miss him, as I try (with the few struggling brain cells I managed to keep sober after last night's escapade!!) to work out how I'd travel around to the different places I planned to go to, then back home.
I LOVED my old taxi driver. I wish I never lost my cell phone, with his number in it. I wish I kept looking and asking for him then. Aaahh, regrets for not treasuring someone amazing that was not appreciated in youthfulness. If I see him again, I would probably hug him. I would likely cry with joy.
I met him around 1999-2000, when he was designated to drive me home after work through a taxi booking service. He was Iraqi or Afghani. I immediately liked him and kept his business card. Taxi drivers always gave me their business cards to call them direct for jobs. I tried a couple, but because they were abundant, I did not care if I lost their details. My Iraqi/Afghani driver (I dislike that I cannot remember his name...) was different, and he was proven to be a great find.
He drove smoothly and took the shortest route. He was always gentlemanly and never made a pass at me verbally and in action. I could fall asleep in his car and I knew I'd be fine, despite our business not being recorded (through the booking service, the reason I preferred it to randomly flagging down a taxi). He would wait for me to finish work late yet never charged extra. He even charged me less, until I assured him I could claim the fare back from work. So he charged me less only for personal trips.
His worth surpassed the generic driver-passenger relationship. I continued using him after I changed job. But I saw him rarely from then on. Many times I called him to check if he was driving in the area, and most times he wasn't, but he always had someone else he trusted to pick me up. He told me to always call him for a taxi, to never catch a random taxi because it was "unsafe". He would tell me to wait, then a few minutes later, all was organised, with another taxi close by. The other drivers extended the safety net. They were always kind and respectful. They never gave me their card (did not compete for business). All spoke well of my driver, told me he was a good man, and respected amongst his peers. A few times they also drove me for free(!!!) when the journey was short. I was never stuck. I would always have a taxi even when there was a huge demand for them!... I felt so lucky and saved so much money. But I did not appreciate its non-financial value as much as it deserved. I was too inexperienced in my youth to realise how rare my situation was.
I could say he was the first man "in my life" whom made me feel like he could take care of me quickly no matter where I was in Melbourne.
He spoilt me. Like a brat, I lapped it up feeling deserving. I may have even abused it, but my driver never asked anything of me. For one to two years my now beloved taxi driver selflessly did all he did for no reason but friendship.
When I lost my phone, I asked other taxi drivers if they knew him. They didn't. I wasn't regularly catching taxis then so I naturally lost contact. And then I move on and forgot his name, forgot his existence. I remembered him when I was placed in a situation where I again had to trust my safety to another driver (see "my driver in Sri Lanka" ) while I was overseas. But as the story showed, it wasn't the same relationship, and the Sri Lankan driver started falling for me. So I was actually glad when I no longer required his service.
I should have stood next to many taxi ranks for days to find my Afghani/Iraqi friend, or someone who knew him. I should have looked for him. I wish to find him again.
I thought about him last night as my head spun. I wished for him in my unsafe drunken state as I tried to get home. I had too many things going against me to catch a taxi (short fare, drunk, vulnerable), so I decided it wiser to walk. Today, I still miss him, as I try (with the few struggling brain cells I managed to keep sober after last night's escapade!!) to work out how I'd travel around to the different places I planned to go to, then back home.
I LOVED my old taxi driver. I wish I never lost my cell phone, with his number in it. I wish I kept looking and asking for him then. Aaahh, regrets for not treasuring someone amazing that was not appreciated in youthfulness. If I see him again, I would probably hug him. I would likely cry with joy.
I met him around 1999-2000, when he was designated to drive me home after work through a taxi booking service. He was Iraqi or Afghani. I immediately liked him and kept his business card. Taxi drivers always gave me their business cards to call them direct for jobs. I tried a couple, but because they were abundant, I did not care if I lost their details. My Iraqi/Afghani driver (I dislike that I cannot remember his name...) was different, and he was proven to be a great find.
He drove smoothly and took the shortest route. He was always gentlemanly and never made a pass at me verbally and in action. I could fall asleep in his car and I knew I'd be fine, despite our business not being recorded (through the booking service, the reason I preferred it to randomly flagging down a taxi). He would wait for me to finish work late yet never charged extra. He even charged me less, until I assured him I could claim the fare back from work. So he charged me less only for personal trips.
His worth surpassed the generic driver-passenger relationship. I continued using him after I changed job. But I saw him rarely from then on. Many times I called him to check if he was driving in the area, and most times he wasn't, but he always had someone else he trusted to pick me up. He told me to always call him for a taxi, to never catch a random taxi because it was "unsafe". He would tell me to wait, then a few minutes later, all was organised, with another taxi close by. The other drivers extended the safety net. They were always kind and respectful. They never gave me their card (did not compete for business). All spoke well of my driver, told me he was a good man, and respected amongst his peers. A few times they also drove me for free(!!!) when the journey was short. I was never stuck. I would always have a taxi even when there was a huge demand for them!... I felt so lucky and saved so much money. But I did not appreciate its non-financial value as much as it deserved. I was too inexperienced in my youth to realise how rare my situation was.
I could say he was the first man "in my life" whom made me feel like he could take care of me quickly no matter where I was in Melbourne.
He spoilt me. Like a brat, I lapped it up feeling deserving. I may have even abused it, but my driver never asked anything of me. For one to two years my now beloved taxi driver selflessly did all he did for no reason but friendship.
When I lost my phone, I asked other taxi drivers if they knew him. They didn't. I wasn't regularly catching taxis then so I naturally lost contact. And then I move on and forgot his name, forgot his existence. I remembered him when I was placed in a situation where I again had to trust my safety to another driver (see "my driver in Sri Lanka" ) while I was overseas. But as the story showed, it wasn't the same relationship, and the Sri Lankan driver started falling for me. So I was actually glad when I no longer required his service.
I should have stood next to many taxi ranks for days to find my Afghani/Iraqi friend, or someone who knew him. I should have looked for him. I wish to find him again.
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