Called for a cab? Don’t get taken for a ride by this idling lot.

(Part Two of 'The Tripping Up In Scotland Tales.')

Flagging Capital Cabs.

We had come to Edinburgh with a Capital Cab pre-booked,
Paid for on-line an age ago, but now we'd been 'overlooked,'
So we called and re-called Capital Cabs till our calls were hooked-
So now I'm calling out this mob in hopes their goose gets cooked.

Capital Cabs have proved to be a bunch of f... odd ducks,
Call Capital Cabs on a fair day and their service is de lux, 
Call on a busy pissy rainy day and their fine service sucks,
NO pick-up unless a promised tip- in the vicinity of 50 bucks.

So I stood, beside myself, steaming in my streaming suit
As a fleet of Capital Cabs cruised by, not giving a hoot,
One paused, raised a playful eyebrow, then planted boot,*
Left us looking at two tail lights and a one-fingered salute.

And should you dare to try to flag down a Capital fare
The Capital Cabbie won't stop with a curse and a glare,
I swear you'll get the full skidding swerve and Death Stare
Requiring a smart step back, and a change of underwear.

I'm (not) sorry, Crap Cabs, if these all too candid comments
Place your Company at the centre of a sad chain of events
But you afforded us a disservice, offered us no recompense-
I feel free to call out your bad Company as a Capital offence.

*NZ slang; plant boot- to put the pedal to the metal, stomp on the gas, light up the Firestones, lead foot it etc.)

 

  'Call Capital Cabs if you want the piss poorest of service.'


(Theme song for this post might as well be Talking Heads 'Road To Nowhere.' Or, judging by the time we waited, Neil Young's 'Till The Morning Comes.')

©Obbverse.

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