I was sure I had met the Taxi Driver before. He displayed a glimmer of recognition across his weather beaten face too when I sat down in the back seat, but denied all knowledge of ever setting eyes on me. `No' He replied frowning when I asked if we had met before.
From that point, he was grumpy and uncommunicative. `Typical' I thought. Here I was, about to embark on a `fabulous adventure' on the cusp of discovering new lands and meeting interesting new people and I get stuck in a cab with the Taxi Driver from hell.
It's always the way. I'm generally a positive, happy-go-lucky kind of person and there is always someone out there who seems to want to spoil my day. Like my ex-wife.
Lilke this journey, my previous marriage went on bumping along for ages. Whizzing by life. Me, watching out of the window, feeling as though everyone else was having a great time but me. Observing snapshots of others lives that always seemed to look glamorous or adventurous whilst mine was mundane and directionless. That's why the affair with my Secretary, albeit predictable, was also inevitable. One Christmas party and there we were laughing and tugging at eachothers underwear in a drunken frenzy in the Photocopier room. The affair went on for 3 years before my wife quite literally found lipstick on my collar and hired a PI to photograph us at every opportunity. I found it a rude interruption to what was a bit of a roller-coaster existence.
`Beep' The hoot of the car to the side rocked me into conciousness. I grabbed the head rest of the seat in front as the blow to the right knocked the taxi sideways and on to pavement. Slamming us into the lampost. The glass shattered to my left and sprayed shards across my face. The impact transformed the Driver into a crazy man.