The taxi

Very often, as I drive home from work, there is a taxi parked rather inconveniently on a bend in the road. On the side on which I drive home. If there is any traffic coming in the opposite direction, I (or anyone else on this side) have to stop as there is not enough room for both to pass. This house is on an estate, but has a back door on this main road. Because of this, I’d assumed that the house belonged to the taxi driver, or he was too lazy to pull round the front of the house to collect his fare. I usually drive around the taxi with a glare, muttered expletives and plenty of bad thoughts.

Then I drove home today.

I saw the taxi driver. I also saw the man for whom the taxi had been booked. He was mentally and physically disabled. The taxi driver was holding his elbow, walking him to his back door, which was the shortest distance he would need to walk as this was obviously causing him difficulty, ensuring that he got in safely.

When did I stop assuming the best in people?

I must try harder.

Never again will I grumble at the taxi parked on the bend. Never again will I think bad of the driver.

Instead, I shall wish that I was more like him.


3 responses to “The taxi

  1. Enjoyed reading this.

  2. It happens to the best of us and, like you, we all feel guilty once we find out the circumstances. It’s a useful reminder though…

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