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I went out with Will tonight. We drank in the Bricklayers’ Arms, and then the Carpenters’ Arms to give the whole night a building site theme, but broke the flow with dum sum.

On the way home I rode a taxi from the station.

‘That smell you can smell isn’t me. It’s the car in front,’ said my driver, pointing to the taxi ahead. I admitted that I was relieved that it was not us that stank of raw petrol.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Nasty, isn’t it. I had to drive all the way back from Danbury behind him and it made my eyes sting all the way.’

‘Why didn’t you go past him?’ I asked, calculating that it must have been a journey of at least 20 minutes.

‘Not allowed,’ he said. ‘He had his light on, you see, and there’s an unwritten rule; no taxi can overtake any other when they’re both free for business. It’s kind of like pushing in.’

‘Oh,’ I said, and tried not to breathe too deep.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 29th, 2005 at 10:02 am and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.