(My Christmas article for B-C-ing-U, as it appeared in the on-line mag. A similar article was edited for Taxi magazine this week, but I like this one better)
Taxi Noir: Save the Trees
I hate working this time of year. I love Christmas, but I hate driving around London in my cab. I dread that moment in November when I’m stuck in a traffic queue, and I have to make that painful admission: Christmas has started. It gets earlier each year. This year it started at about the time they switched on the Christmas lights on Regent Street, almost obscenely in the middle of November.
This is the start of the madness. Black Friday hasn’t even appeared yet. Those traffic queues will get worse, and they’ll spread. Buses won’t be moving, delivery vans will be parked on double yellows blocking everyone’s progress. Tempers will be frayed. Out of towners will be circling the West End looking for parking that doesn’t exist, while craning their necks up at the Christmas lights. All the year’s road closures and madcap re-modelling projects will come into sharp focus as we sit and stew behind the buses. The meter is moving, but our wheels aren’t. All we can do is apologise to our customers for the delays and the inflated fares.
December is fair game for Christmas festivities, but November isn’t. I don’t even allow myself to look up at the Christmas lights until December. It’s just not right. I drive up to Piccadilly Circus eyes straight ahead, as if to gaze upon the Christmas lights in November is to bring down a curse of bad luck for the coming year.
I don’t want to see any Christmas TV adverts before December, or hear Christmas songs or carols. I don’t want to hear Noddy Holder screaming “It’s Christmas!” until December. I don’t want to see Christmas trees on sale too early either. The purchase of Christmas trees in November should be outlawed. I’m disappointed this didn’t feature in any of the General Election manifestos. I thought the Greens would be keen to stop the premature felling of trees at least.
My plastic Woolworths Christmas tree goes up on the first weekend after December 1st. It’s seen sixteen Christmasses. It’s been brought down by the cats and chewed by the rabbits, but it lives to see another year. I’d write to Woolworths to congratulate them on the quality of their replica tree, but the shop has long gone. Last year I bought a miniature pine from Morrison’s. It’s a tiny tree, just big enough to decorate a table top. But at least I can say I have a real tree. Surprisingly, the tree survived all year in a pot outdoors, and I’m expecting continued growth in 2020. If Morrison’s survives Brexit I’ll write to them next year.
A few days before the Big Day, the roads become quieter and trade drops off. We feel we’ve earned our Christmas break. I sometimes work Christmas Eve. It’s quiet, but there’s a jolly atmosphere. If I lived in London I might have tried Christmas Day just to satisfy my curiosity. Same with New Year’s Eve. I often work it, at least until the bridge closures are put in for the fireworks display. I worked a few New Year’s Days, but the road closures are so extensive now that I’ve given up on that. It can pay well though.
The New Year is a time for reflection. We look over the past year and reflect on what went well and what went badly. Hopefully we didn’t pick up many drunks. It’s difficult because many of them look respectable, and they don’t just operate in the hours of darkness either. I usually pick up at least one party of boozed-up office workers off to annoy Arab families at the Winter Wonderland, but as a paranoid cove, I manage to avoid most of the unpleasantness. It’ll be another interesting year for sure. The LEVC semi-electric cab has sold well since its launch almost two years ago, and there’s a fully-electric cab on its way. Uber are still hanging on, like a manky Christmas tree chocolate melted by the lights.
Will trade be better this year? We ask ourselves that same question every year, more in hope than expectation. There’s now the Kipper Season to endure. No-one’s sure why this time of the year is called the kipper season: some say it’s because kippers were all Victorian cabmen could afford to eat in January. Or it could just mean that the trade is as flat as a kipper. Either way, we can look forward to one, two, or even three months of poor trade. Eventually we’ll come out of that dark tunnel and the days will bring a bit more light. We can look forward to some spring warmth, and hopefully a bit more business.
Will we get to enjoy the romance of a white Christmas? Great! – If it starts late on Christmas Eve and has thawed by the time I decide to go back to work. I don’t really remember the last white Christmas – probably in the 70s. I remember some warm ones. Global warming? Perhaps Extinction Rebellion are on to something after all?
I’ve included one of my own photos taken in late February 2018; just after I called my work day off as I couldn’t get the cab off my driveway.
Have a good one!