... but is there anyone out there brave enough for Taylor to drive for them?



It would appear that a £30 heater valve - the customers were complaining about being unable to turn off the heat,- was too much for the erstwhile boss, who complained that with putting the car through its test he hadn't time to get out to work to earn.

Except when I picked the car up last saturday there was just £35 on the meter.

The guy didn't ever want to work. He wanted the illusion of being a taxi boss but couldn't graft.

So the 11 grand I paid him didn't merit replacing the heater valve that the customers deserved for the sheckels they're paying.

This car has just gone through its test. It appears that our hapless cab inspector's team couldn't spot this. A moron looking at the encrusted valve in the engine compartment would wonder. But not Frank's lads. Of course, we've already questioned Frank's powers of deduction. Seems his malaise has filtered down to his boys. And it wouldn't be hard to find on a 15 year old cab. Why do we allow 15 year old cabs in the fleet anyway? If you can't aford to invest in a decent cab, why do you have a licence when those who don't wouldn't touch a bucket like this?

So Taylor doesn't have a drive.

(Cue universal rejoicing and smugness on behalf of all the taxi "businessmen" drunk with the illusion.)

I think I'll just toddle off to North Berwick, compete with the Skull's new venture, drive him out of business and back into the bosom of those who are beneath him 9in the taxi trade. I can't think of a single reason why he should be allowed to enjoy his life when there's real grief to be enjoyed here.

Or I could just become Toots' lesbian lover. No; we all know don't we ...



Or Captain Cab's linguistic guru. If his meanderings in the rag improve you'll all know he's taken my offer up but just isn't cracking on.


Or Dougie's psychotherapist? No, I don't think even I'm ready for such a challenge.

Or bite swannee's bum. Perhaps not.

Or I could just chill.

I think I'll just ....

The thing is that this paragon of business illusion decided to have his spat with me just as we move into the busiest period of the year. I've been paying him more rental that I've earned for myself for months now, and get dumped when I can begin to make some of it back.

And this fine upstanding operator also had his spat when he knows my old mother is lying in intensive care in the Western general desperately fighting for her life against pneumonia.

That's the quality of guys who operate taxis. That's the power they have over you.

And that's why it is fundamentally immoral for councils to refuse taxi drivers the right to determine their own future.

But I guess this is what we've come to in Salmond's Scotland.

I don't really expect to.

As public enemy number 1, because I've had the temerity to campaign for the taxi trade to operate just like every other commercial sector, I believe I'm frozen out.

So, I'm qualified to be a taxi driver but, because of the cartel operating in the trade, I'm not allowed to work as one.

That's the quality of enterprise in 21st Century Scotland.

This is what the b0dybags coming back from Blair's wars are protecting.

Tell me to feckoff if you like but what is the rental price for a weekly drive for nights and days?

I put the fire out and called the owner.
Did I sit for 3 hours freezing my borlocks off waiting for the AA?

Yes, until I could wait no longer. My fingers were numb with the cold.

£250 per week. I haven't earned that for myself for months.

And I had nothing to do with this. All the griefmongers fail to realise that the state the trade is in is nothing to do with me. I'm not responsible. They've done this all by themselves.

What I've always campaigned for is to give drivers a fair shake. I always knew that at some point I wouldn't be given a fair shake.

How is it that your country allows you to be qualified to do a job, and then tells you that unless you are a happy slave it won't let you?

Some people eh, they put out a perfectly good fire and then complain about the cold.