One Wednesday afternoon I got a job to pick up at an old
person sheltered housing accommodation. I could see on my taxi screen that the
lady I was picking up was only going to the local hairdressers, which was
situated about two hundred yards from the pickup, but as now a lot of people
living in the sheltered housing are not very good on their pins, I had no
problem with this journey. I love picking up the older generation, you get some
great stories from them, but to be fair I didn’t think the journey would be
long enough to get any conversation going.
I pulled up
outside the sheltered accommodation, the front door opens and this little old
lady aided by two walking sticks starts heading towards my car. I jumped out of
my car and said to the lady, “Are you getting in the front or the back?”
She was only
about 10 feet away from my car when she
waved one of her sticks at me and replied in a very stern voice “Get back in
the car, I can manage to get in by myself”
“You sure
love?” I asked.
“I’ve told
you once haven’t I” she barked at me, giving me a sharp look.
“Ok” I said,
and got back into my car. I watched her struggle to open the heavy door, then
watched her struggle closing the door as she had to lean half way out to get
the handle.
“You going
to the hairdressers at the bottom there love?” I asked in my most pleasant
voice,
“Yes” she
grunted
So I drove
to the hairdressers, pulled up outside, she paid me the fare, and then I made
the fatal mistake of asking “Are you alright getting out or do you need a hand?”
The look she
gave me was enough of an answer, she got out, closed the door and shuffled into
the hairdressers.
The
following Wednesday I was lucky enough to get the same job, picking up the same
lady going to the hairdressers. So off I went and pulled up outside the
sheltered accommodation. I sat in my car watching the little old lady, aided by
her two walking sticks make her way to my car. She opened the door, leaned half
way out to close the door, pretty much the same thing as last week, except when
the door was closed she turned to me and said, “Most drivers have the manners
to get out and help me into the car, you’re a very lazy and unhelpful man.”
I just
looked at her in disbelief, and before I could say anything she added, “Just
drive if you can manage that.”
I took a
deep breath and drove her to the hairdressers again. As she handed me the money
she spat out “Not that you deserve this.”
I took the
money and started to open my door, “Don’t bother yourself I’ll manage,” she
said to me in an angry tone. I chose to get out the car, but she waved me away
when I tried to help her, not wanting to get slapped with one of those sticks I
stepped to one side, and watched her struggle out of the car. Then watched her
shuffle into the hairdressers.
As I drove
away to my next job, still bewildered by what just happened, I wondered what
she did for a living, school teacher sprung intently into my mind, or maybe a
prison officer, or even she might have been in the army, but which one I
thought, then the penny dropped I knew what she did, she probably was an SS
Officer and has been hiding in England since the end of the war., and that’s
what I’m sticking too.
But lesson
learnt, so next Wednesday I’ll make sure I’m not in that area at the time,
which for the next three Wednesday’s I wasn’t, but on the fourth, I pressed my
button on the taxi screen to except a job, when I looked at the details of
where the pickup was I thought nooooo, I looked at the customer’s name,
noooooooooo, I thought should I tell the office I’ve got a flat tyre just to
get out of doing this job, no I decided to do it. As I drove to the sheltered
accommodation, I decided on how I was going to handle this, I pulled up outside
and watched as the little old lady with her Gestapo boots on shuffled towards
the car aided by her walking sticks, I jumped out of my car and was told
politely but firmly to get back in my car. I smiled to myself, job done, my
plan was to take the first bollocking off her instead of the second one.
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