Wednesday, October 04, 2006

[peak hour] death on the tramlines stares us in the face

I’m not lying – I almost died just now coming home and what was more, the driver was a crazed madman hunched over the wheel, hands 10 to 2, with gritted teeth. I was late for work and did what we all do, went downstairs, stuck out a hand and phoom! Instant taxi. That was fine and the day progressed, haranguing innocent girls and drinking milk cocktails and then it came time for home. Peak hour. Mayhem hour. Major traffic lights out. No problem – mounting rutted footpaths [replete with pedestrians making their way home], carousing through gaps onto the tram lines at 120kph, whilst other cars left the road and joined us plus [and this is the truth] a tram following us and another coming the other way, lights furiously blinking and bell, ding, ding, ding. Then at the eight point intersection, total gridlock and my man actually wove his way through it. And you know why he did it? Because I offered him 100 roubles, well over the odds and therefore demanding full throttle service to get me home. Point of honour. You remember the end of Bourne Identity chase in Paris? This was faster.

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