I used to drive a taxi/cab. Why? I often ask myself that, it was a shitty job, but it got me through 2 years of university, so it served a purpose. I was telling a few stories from those days to a friend recently and it got me thinking that I should write these stories down before I forget them.

"Um, yeah, there's a guy..."

Another Saturday night, slowly drifting into a Sunday morning. I'm cruising, fare less, down Kings Park Ave when I see a guy standing at the lights. Somethings not exactly right though, you start to develop a sense for trouble after driving for a while. I have to drive past him, there's no turns between him and me and besides, I'm a little curious as to what he's doing.

I get to the red light and there it is in all of its glory. I can't help but laugh out loud as I reach for my microphone and contact base

Dispatch: "Go ahead 652"

Me: "Um, yeah there's a guy standing on the corner of Loftus St and Kings Park Ave that you should probably warn the other drivers about.."

Dispatch: "What seems to be the problem?"

Me: "Well, um, he's completely nude and he's kind of yelling at the sky"

Dispatch: "Hahahahaha"

Just another early morning on the streets of Perth.

You can read the other stories in the series so far by clicking the taxi label below