True taxi story Chugs.
I was having a bastard of a night - long waits, small fares - when I got this bloke from the International terminal.
Well dressed, expensive luggage .... hops in the back and didn't say a word except for his suburb. So I start driving towards there.
After about 15 minutes he suddenly says "pull over" with some urgency. Well, I've heard that before and know what it means!
He staggers out of the car and I realise he is totally pissed. He leans over to throw up and falls down the embankment.
On Tonkin Highway there is a section that has quite a drop-off and guess where we are? So crashes down to the bottom and lies completely still.
I was convinced he was dead.
I carefully make my way down to where he is whilst dialing 000 for an ambulance. As I reach the bottom he stirs, struggles to his feet and starts brushing himself off.
I help him back up to the top and tell him I'm not prepared to take him any further. I've had a gutful. I get his bags out of the back of my wagon and drive off.
I don't want him throwing up in my car and he's barely coherent.
I go up to the next lights, do a u-turn and head back towards the airport. As I come up to where he is on the opposite side I see him standing there, forlorn, with his luggage.
It's the middle of winter, freezing cold and I realise I can't just leave him there.
So it's up to the lights, another u-turn, and I pull up. Grab his luggage, whack it in the back and open the door for him. He tumbles in and I go back to the drivers seat.
As I take off he says "Mate thanks a lot for picking me up." "You're a top bloke."
I say "no worries."
He says "Yeah, unlike the last bastard taxi driver I had!" "Kicked me out and left me stranded!"
Geez it was a tough trip from then on. I was trying so hard not to laugh I was gagging.
Got a decent tip too!