White Girls Can’t Jump

[Rank Dispatches, with Brother 3000]

I saw her out of the corner of my eye. A little pale; a little unsteady on her feet. Feeling her way into the dark, cold June morning away from the garish, pulsing excesses of the casino. She wanted a cab and I was at the head of the rank.

Casinos are like life. People go in with certain expectations. Some have more money to play with than others, and are accorded special privileges, exclusive premises and so forth. A few come out on top; most don't. My next passenger happened to be one of the latter.

She lived in one of the dire western suburbs 30km away. An ultra western suburb. A suburb so west that it's quicker to head east. On the way she wanted cigarettes, so I stopped at a service station and bought a $7.50 packet with the $5 she'd given me.

As we approached the notorious Westgate Bridge, a quiet sobbing revealed itself from the back seat. Being the caring driver, I inquired as to the nature of her tumult. 'My husband just left me and I lost all my money at the casino.' 'Oh dear', was my lame reply. 'Look, just drop me off at the top of the bridge.'

'Yeah, right', I thought. That's an idea not even Mia Farrow would adopt. One of the first things they teach you at the Sterling Heights Institute of Taxi Etiquette is under no circumstances to stop on that bridge at the behest of a passenger.

'Aahh, not such a good idea', I replied.

So, in a most unKevorkianesque gesture, I turned off the meter and drove her all the way home.

'Come in for a lie down', she said.

There was about as much chance of that happening as a Ramones reunion tour.

'Um…'

'Just a drink then', she insisted. Gotta love a UDL first thing in the morning - not!

'Thanks, but no thanks.'

'Why not!?!' she demanded.

'Have to go now' I blurted, while fumbling for the ignition. Screeching down the gravel driveway, and I’m outta there.

On the long, boring drive back into town one thing kept repeating itself in my head like a drum and bass number minus the bass: never go back to the freakin' casino rank.

Although one must never say never. In a future similar situation...well, as Mrs Brother says: 'We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it.'