Tale of a Taxi

So. At the risk of alarming you, I'll just come out and say it so it's out there and before I even say it, just know that everything is fine. I'm still alive and kicking. Well, alive anyway.

Yesterday I nearly died. I completely took my life into my hands and placed it, without much thought, into the grimy paws of a TCN taxi driver. What on earth was I thinking? I should have at least asked to see his driver's license before seating myself in the Taxi-To-Hell-As-Long-As-We-Don't-Get-Lost-Along-The-Way-In-Which-Case-We-May-End-Up-In-Zimbabwe-Which-Is-Probably-The-Same-Place-So-Buckle-Up-And-Let's-Go!

As the door closed behind me, a fly that had been flapping around some long-forgotten crumb on the carpet, flew up to the dashboard and took a look at where we were going. I tried to wave him out of my line of vision.

The engine started. The driver looked nervous - had he not expected something? I tried not to read anything into the slight look of panic in his eyes and the beads of sweat growing on his forehead.

We jerked abruptly into motion. My head hit the back rest. I put my hand up to give it a rub and had to pull strands of hair out of the velcro-like pillow cushioning the headrest. I didn't dare turn my head to have a look at what other organic things might be trapped in the tiny hooks. My eyes were locked on the road ahead. Our turn approached in abrupt jolts. We passed it. Also in abrupt jolts.

"That was our turn," the driver was informed. His trembling knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. The fly started to flit nervously around the radio controls. The driver actually tried to do an instantaneous u-turn (in a one-way only road) to take us back to our turn. The action was called to a halt when a large car zoomed past on the right. He found a detour to take us back.

My neck was starting to ache from the stop-start driving. The fly was also looking a little worried.

We were heading for the highway. I suddenly felt very anxious. I braced myself. The driver seemed to develop instant highway dread, and slammed on the breaks. The fly found himself flat up against the windscreen. I tried to exchange glances with my fellow passenger in the back seat, but she was prying the driver's seat out of her eye.

The driver worked up his courage and stepped on the accelerator. We shot out into highway traffic. The fly flew to the window and banged his little fly fists against the glass, begging to be released from this capsule of death.

I realised that I had been holding my breath when I started feeling slightly woozy. I gulped taxi-tainted air deep into my lungs and turned to check out the driver. Was this guy actually for real?

The driver had his eyes closed and seemed to be murmuring something under his breath. He was praying. That's when I realised I should probably be doing the same thing.

I closed my eyes. My life started unfolding in a movie-like manner on my mental screen. The thought struck me, somewhere between watching a kitten being born and a traumatic dentist visit, that neither of the people in the front seat of this vehicle had their eyes on the road. I pressed PAUSE and looked up into the glaring red break lights of an SUV. My gasp woke the driver from his supplications and he slammed on the breaks. Again.

The fly had given up and was lying on his back on my lap, wings crumpled. That, or the impact of banging into the windscreen for the umpteenth time had rendered him spiritless.

Fortunately our destination was just off the highway. When the driver pulled into the parking lot we threw open the doors and tumbled out into the dust and dirt. It took all my presence of mind (of which there was very little by the time our trip was over) not to kiss the ground in absolute gratitude.

As the vehicle pulled away, I had to steady myself when I noticed the dents and scratches that the body of the car sported. I don't think any of those blemishes were thanks to our little adventure around the block. A fly landed on my shoulder. I waved it away.

All I can say is that, on any normal day, I am grateful for being able to drive myself around.