Outside Tiger Tiger

A Wednesday night outside the club Tiger Tiger in the Haymarket.

When I arrived outside Tiger Tiger, there were three police vehicles sitting on our rank blocking the entrance to the club. I had to rank up in front of them, and it was about 15 minutes before someone got in my cab and he seemed in a bit of a hurry. He said:  quickly go go! but before I could pull away, this other guy approaches and opens my back door and my first thoughts were he was a plain cloths policeman, but soon after I realised that he wasn’t because he started arguing with the other guy in the back. I asked them to leave my cab but it fell on death ears.

I wasn’t going anywhere so I thought that I should take advantage of the fact that there were so many coppers there by asking  one of them who was sitting in her car that was parked directly behind mine, I asked her if she didn’t mind asking them to get out of my cab. She did and they obliged.  I thanked her and asked what was going on inside TT and she said that it was just a bit of trouble and got back in her car.  So now I’m looking for fresh punters and hopefully not troublesome ones. 5 minutes later the two guys that were taken out of my cab started arguing on the pavement then a fight broke out between them and they were trying to smack each other in the face. Never a dull moment as a cab outside this place.

So now another lady copper gets out of the police van that was parked in front of me and tries to break them up, they ease up so she steps back then they carried on for a while longer then walked off.

While still waiting a cab pulls up next to me and two guys were just about to get in and I shouted out of my window: what’s your game?  I’m sitting on a rank!  the two guys apologised saying that they did not see me -I said don’t worry get in. Then the other cab driver checked where the taxi bay was and said that’s not a proper taxi rank!  I said,  you’re having a laugh – you can’t be a London cabby by not recognising this as a proper taxi bay?  he had to shout the obligatory  expletives as he drove off.

Then shortly after,  I get a sober punter wanting to go to the Grange City Hotel near the Tower of London to which I though: oh yes that’s my lot and when I dropped him off, I turned my hire sign off and thought,  that’s enough excitment for one night.

Be lucky, Steve.

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