Strange taxi experience in Rockin' Radlett. For those of you who don't know it, the town is near St Albans and was given its racy epithet by a lady I knew called Babs, who used to live there.
Anyway, I arrive quite early in the morning and take a cab from the station. When I reach my destination, the driver has no change for a tenner, which is a pretty strange state of affairs given that most journeys are probably between a fiver and a tenner around those parts. I'm wondering what the hell we're going to do when he suggests I simply call his company later in the day for the return leg and pay up then. Or, if I'm coming back to the railway station, I could maybe pop into their on-site office and cough up.
I was gobsmacked. It was like the taxi driver equivalent of an honesty box.
And, yes, I did go back to the office at the end of the day and pay its rather bemused occupant.
Anyway, I arrive quite early in the morning and take a cab from the station. When I reach my destination, the driver has no change for a tenner, which is a pretty strange state of affairs given that most journeys are probably between a fiver and a tenner around those parts. I'm wondering what the hell we're going to do when he suggests I simply call his company later in the day for the return leg and pay up then. Or, if I'm coming back to the railway station, I could maybe pop into their on-site office and cough up.
I was gobsmacked. It was like the taxi driver equivalent of an honesty box.
And, yes, I did go back to the office at the end of the day and pay its rather bemused occupant.
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