I seem to be doing nothing but ranting in this journal just lately which probably makes me seem liike a rightmiserable cow, but sometimes I just have to get this stuff off my chest.
I’d been in York on Saturday and arrived back at Nottingham station around 9 in the evening so decided to pay the exorbitant about of around £10 to get home in a taxi.
I know a lot of people out there consider travelling in taxis a luxury. You just get in a car and are taken from door to door and avoid having to drive yourself or waiting for a bus.
Not so if you can’t see, well that’s my opinion anyway. To start with, I have a real problem with just getting into a taxi. You have no idea what sort of person is driving it and it goes against everything your mother told you when you were little – “Don’t get into cars with strange men”.
Anyway, joking aside, I got into the taxi on Saturday and was quite impressed that the driver knew where Arnold is, as many of them don’t seem to. I was even further surprised when he found Arnott Hill Road without any problems, which is the main road at the bottom of my road. However, we then took a right turn, a little earlier than I’d expected, and he asked me what number. I knew immediately that this was not my road as my road is straight and this one was going round several small bends. I told him this, and this was where the shouting started. The driver was adamant about the fact that we were in the right road, and was prepared to shout me down when I protested, repeating over and over that we were in my road.
What to do? Eventually, I decided that the only thing was to ask to be taken back to the main road and let out. It got to the point where I had to shout louder and longer than he was, before he’d turn round and let me out. When he did finally let me out, he had the audacity to say “Don’t blame me for dropping you off in the wrong place”. I told him that I did blame him though for not reading a map and road signs.
Once I started walking, I realised that we were in fact, two turning short of where we should have been. Thank goodness I didn’t allow myself to be dropped at some stranger’s house!
I really should complain about this. I don’t, however, know the name of the company, but I believe there is only one that operates from the station, so I’ll go to the council direct.