The Journey Home

"I don't know which way to go home" I said in as confused a tone as possible to my housemate.

I genuinely didn't know which way to go home. There is a cheap route but it involves numerous train changes and it takes a long time or I can take the quick route but this involves going via the underground whilst it also costs a lot more.

It was a real first world problem.

I decided to go for the cheap option due to my sound logic that the money I saved on train travel could be spent down the pub. I think you can agree that is very sound logic.

After what seemed like a lengthy walk, I finally reached Earley Station. I purchased my ticket as per usual and then I walked to the bridge to reach the appropriate side of the platform.

"STOP"

Eh? What was going on? I turned around, took my earphones out only to be told that the line wasn't working. Great, just what I needed. To make matters worse I was informed that I wouldn't be able to get a refund.

I took stock. I reflect. I realised that I needed to head to Reading Station and take the more expensive route home. Mostly because it was the only way home. It would be a 45 minute walk and it was a fairly humid evening, so I called a cab.

The taxi eventually arrived and I opened the door to the sound of gangsta rap. Now, I'm not partial to a bit of a gangsta rap but I could hardly offend the man who would take me to my destination by asking him to turn down his music.

I climbed into the car and sank into the leather seats. Well, I didn't literally sink, because that would be strange. I explained the train situation and he seemed sympathetic to my plight. I immediately liked this taxi driver. He seemed friendly and he agreed with me about Network Rail being awful.

"Have you been waiting long?"
"No, only about 5 minutes"
"That's good, we always aim to be quick"
I felt bad as I had lied. I had been waiting about 10 minutes and I was actually unimpressed with the length of time I was waiting but I felt in the interests of friendly Driver/Passenger relations, it was important to let this one slide.

We covered all manner of topics ranging from our favourite eateries in Reading, night-life in Reading and my degree. Suddenly, he informed me why women make the worst passengers. One such incident involved being propositioned by a female passenger who couldn't afford the entire fare.

He told me that "She said 'I only have five pounds but you can come back to mine and do whatever you want'. I didn't catch on at first but then I clocked on and was like 'No thanks' but she still got in the cab". "Go on" I proceeded. "Well, we were driving and then I noticed in my mirror that she didn't seem to have any clothes on". "What did you do?" I enquired. "Well, I told her to get out the cab because when I'm on a job, I am professional".

"I bet he's gay" I thought.

"She then called me gay. Can you believe the cheek of it?"

I think it was at this point that the taxi driver believed that I thought he was gay as suddenly said that he has declined advances from men as well.

We got stuck in traffic yet the driver found an ingenius way to get me close to the station and I paid up and left the cab. I strode to the station feeling like a successful man for bonding with the taxi driver over women.

I am left with one question though. Why did he turn down a naked women? Answers on a postcard!