The historic London black taxi, London would not be London without it! Real London cabbys who love to chat through the glass and lose all track of all time as their meter ticks away... I’ve probably confessed some of my most inner thoughts to a black cabby... so in tune and empathetic with the life... and the jungle When I was 17 my father sat me down and gave me an ultimatum... he said I had to choose, it was either him, or her (my girlfriend at the time)... for me it was an easy choice... Off I went, no money in my pocket, no bag, completely spontaneously just walked out of the building slamming the door behind me... where would I go, well of course I would head to my girlfriends flat in Elephant and Castle... how to get there?... well of course flag down a black cab. And so I did, and he stopped, he saw how young I was so I simply explained that I had run away from home with no money and please could he take me to Waterloo where I would meet my girlfriend... Back then... I think it was 1990, nice people in London really existed, especially the yours truly black cabby, who of course opened the door to let me in and took me for no fare all the way from Hendon Way to Waterloo... wherein I unearthed all my emotional turmoil at home due to my recent ‘coming out’... for him... not a bother... a real pleasure... showing me the real true meaning of compassion and empathy... my subsequent adventures I leave for another time, perhaps another blog ... now I’m off to take a shower, infuse myself with my new Cartier perfume, slip on my jeans and leather jacket ... then jump in a black cab and see what road lies ahead!
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