London Ninja

As excited as I was landing in London, I wanted to get to my 2-month home as soon as I could after a rough plane ride. Not bargaining and battling to get the lowest price, I went with the first cabbie that asked me if I need a ride into London. Here was the exchange and experience that ensued…

“Need a taxi?”
“Yes, to Notting Hill. How much?”
“Come with me”

So I follow the middle easterner over towards the elevators and ask again:

“How much?”

He walked up to another fellow to get the pricing and came back:

“48 GBP”

I thought about it…knew I could get it down to around 40, but agreed with him because my head hurt and I was ready for a shower. So we go down the elevator and towards the parking garage, when I started thinking…

Is this guy a real licensed cab driver? If he isn’t, why is he allowed in the airport?

When we get to the guy’s car, I see a regular car. Sort of nervous, I ask him:

“To be sure, are you a licensed cab driver?”
“Yes”
“Can I see your license?”
“I’ll show you in the car”

Ok. Fair enough. We put our bags in the cab and when we get in the car, I ask him for the license again. The license pretty looks like arse (British for ass). My kid cousin could make licenses way better than that in his sleep (my kid cousin makes counterfeit drivers licenses and Louis Vuitton bags). I know you can do better than a picture on a white background with a header that says London Cab Driver with a signature on the bottom. For some reason, I decided to trust humanity and go with it.

As we start pulling out, the cabby starts asking questions:

“How long are you here for?”
“2 weeks,” I lie. Not sure if that got me anything.

“Are you here for work?”
“Yes, sorta, ” Booya. Although, I guess it’s the truth.

“What company do you work for?”
“IBM.” BAM, flat out lie…although I did used to work for IBM but that was a long time ago.

At this point, humanity starts to fail….

“The GPS unit shows that it is 16 miles away so we have to charge you extra. I can give you a receipt for it.” he started.
“Excuse me?”
“There’s additional mileage that we didn’t account for that we will need to charge you an extra 10 GBP for”
“Dude, what are you talking about? We already set the price, I ain’t paying you any more than that price.”

He thinks about it for a moment, then says, “Ok, don’t worry about it.”

Right after that, he picks up his phone and starts talking to somebody in a Middle Eastern language. I am going to die.

There were three thrings that could happen at this point:
1. We arrive safely at the hotel.
2. He pulls us over, pulls a gun, and takes all of our shit.
3. He drives us into a setup, where we are taken hostage and appear on Aljazeera later that evening. I love you, mom and all my friends back home…and dad..

As we start going, I actually start to recognize some of the streets and neighborhood(Hammersmith). Things start looking good and we get close to our hotel when we pull into a dark alley.

Bloody Bollocks(British for shit). This is it. I hope people leave comments on my blog as my e-memorial site.

Somehow, because of road construction, we had to take a detour but end up in front of our hotel. I am relieved. I even give the cabby a tip (more because he did not have change than out of kindness) for a total of 50 GBP.

I haven’t figured out whether these non-standard cabs are a norm in London, but rest assured I will not be taking it again.

Here’s my takeaway: MAKE SURE YOU CHECK WITH AN OFFICIAL BEFORE YOU JUMP INTO A WEIRD MAN’S CAR OR YOU MAY END UP ON ALJAZEERA.