So, London is not Louisville. Of course this is true, but I guess its hard to realize in what ways they are specifically different. For example, in Louisville, if I were to get bombed in Makers and stumble out to the Nat City exit, Nolan would be inevitably there to scoop me up, take me home, and give me life advice in the process (somebody tell Nolan I said what’s up by the way!). In London, the liscenced taxis only run to midnight, and then its mini-cab time. As I learned this weekend, these are not always the safest option. So here’s the story:
My flatmate Lena, was born on Halloween so we decided to hit the town to celebrate. A blue van with a “Mini-cab” sticker on the back took us out to Fulham road for £25. Three bars and about 8 tequila shots later, I realize that Lena and her friend need to go home very very soon. We exit the bar, and the two girls try to flag down a cab as I go back in to tell my flatmates we’re off. As I exit the bar for the second time, Lena has flagged down a cab that looks remarkably like the one that took us out. Now at this point, my mind is saying, “they told you during orientation to only take the black Taxis.” This one was blue, but it had the same sticker as the one that took us out, so I figured it must be fine. The driver quoted us £15 for the journey home, and I figured even if he bumped it 10 last minute, we still payed the right fare…
The ride was as jovial as any other when I’m in the car. It began with me asking the driver where he was from (don’t remember), and then stating I’m from America and what he thought of the election (he didn’t care). Anyway, you’ll notice I mentioned that Lena’s friend needed to get home soon and my fears were realized as she began yaking out the window. I did my best to destract the driver with my political commentary as we were almost home at this point.
As we approached my flat, as I suspected, the fare jumped from 15 to 20. Based on the mess he would eventually find on the side of his car, I was happy to pay. Unfortunately, Lena was not and began to argue with the driver. Both exited the car, where he found the mess and promptly shat a brick, so-to-speak. Now both Lena and the cab driver are screaming at each other, while Lena’s friend rests against the door to the flat.
Moderator bling kicked in and I calmly sent Lena to assist her friend while I tried to calm down the cab driver. I told him calmly that I was going to give him 10 extra pounds on the price he quoted and pulled out the 50 quid I had in my wallet to count out 25. As I was counting, the Fing driver grabbed the money out of my hand, hopped in his running cab and began to drive off. Unacceptable! I grabbed the open window and yelled for the driver to stop as I started running next to the car. About 3 steps into this process I realized I had made a HUGE mistake….
I was running WAY too fast for a guy with as many whiskey and tequila shots downed as I. I let go of the cab and braced for impact. Two stumbling steps and I landed, first on my right hand, then my right shoulder, and then I came to a sliding stop on the right side of my face….
Then all chaos ensued. Lena charged the cab driver who had stopped when I fell. People were outside their cars and I think the neighbors came out as well. I remember laying there for about 5 seconds trying to get up, but my bearings hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
Finally, my motor skills returned and I was up and in the flat, 50 quid, some facial skin, and apparently an iPhone lighter….
After 5-10 minutes of my flatmates bawling, me complaining about the blood and holes in my £70 Thomas Pink shirt, scuffed shoes and belt, I realized that I no longer had my phone. I remember checking what time UL played the next day in the cab, so I knew I had it when I left the bar. I started freaking out, that the cab driver stole 15 quid AND had my phone. For whatever reason, I decided to check and see if it was outside on the street, and low and be hold, there it was, 15 yards from my flat where I assume I fell. I sprinted to the phone, the first lucky thing that had happen that night! Unfortunately the screen was smashed to smitherines, apparently having been run over or squashed by a tumbling Bling. (for the record, thank god for phone insurance! I get my replacement tomorrow.)
But despite the facial and palm lacerations the ruined clothing (somehow my jeans made it through!), destroyed iPhone and still the worst thing that happened this weekend was UL losing to Syracuse! Come on Cards….
Anyway, I finally went to a doctor after my face turned a bit green and swelled up. He was quite impressed how I had cleaned my palm, calling it professional looking. So if this whole scientist thing doesn’t work out, at least I have future in wound dressing...
But it was all almost worth it as a particularly attractive young co-ed kept staring at me on the bus this morning. Eventually I caught her glance and remarked, "You should see the other guy." She laughed... and then changed seats to the front of the bus, capping off the weekend. Eh, you win some, you lose some. At least it can only go up from here.
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