Cabbie Diaries part 3

Cabbie called me on Friday asking if I was spontaneous? This is never a question I have found ends well. Spontaneity usually means you don’t have a plan. I said that no, spontaneity wasn’t my thing and I preferred surprises to spontaneity. He asked if I was free that day at 4 for a brunch. It was now 2pm. I said that I didn’t have plans for 4 and agreed to meet. I was peckish but I could hold out for 2 hours. I called on the strength of my ancestors to see me through and some water. Bit late for brunch mind you but he was trying to be romantic.

And then the crap began

At 4.33 a text from him saying that he had been sent on a job to Heathrow and that he would call me on his way back. Huh? So I’m meant to hang out waiting for you? I hate this new strategy to manage extreme lateness. Basically they just text you every half an hour with an update telling you that yes indeed they are still frigging late. 6.30 and he called to say he was 15 minutes away. Now I know that we love to use African time but by this time I was in Waterstones trying not to eat the books I was so hungry. But I decided after a further 30 minutes that enough was enough and popped into M&S and Waitrose to buy dinner. 7.15 I called him and told him that I was bored of this shit and was going home. Funny, it went straight to voicemail if he was close by and on his way right?

Apparently as I put my phone away and bopped down the road to Black Eyed Peas and Beyonce he managed to call 3 times, not leave any messages and send me a text message “Hey Chelsea, I’m waiting…” Sadly I didn’t see these so imagine my surprise when I got to the top of my road and there was his cab. I should really stop telling people which road I live on. He rolled down the window and said “Hey Chelsea, Why aren’t you picking up your phone?”

Was this dude serious? He was now over 3 hours late and yet he was the one asking questions? He said I seemed pissed off and when was I going to defrost ? I told him I doubt I would. And then he astounded me by asking if I was ready to go out. I walked off  pissed that now I would have to cook and had wasted time waiting on that idiot. I deleted his number. That was 3 minutes of my time I would never ever get back.

The next day he called and asked if we were still on for Sunday?!? Now there’s pig-headedness and then there is Nigistence*. I told him that no we weren’t and he said “Wow, you’re not easy.” He then went on to suggest that this may be the reason that I was still single. Not an apology for being late or being an arsehole? I calmly told him that we had different value systems and I didn’t think it fair to either of us to string the other along. Lateness wasn’t one of mine.

Shame, I was looking forward to our 80s movies DVD night. I’ll go back to hailing black cabs I think not chatting to black cabbies.

© Chelsea Black

(Nigistence – the Nigerian or other west African persistence of men that harass you in the street talking about please my sister I want to make you my princess. This is not a good thing.)