Phil D. Rolls

"Time to take a breather", as Jeff Stelling might say. As we hear what Filled Rolls in dictionary corner has to tell us today.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but I used to drive a black cab in Edinburgh. It was the classic Bipolar job, you were either in ecstacy or the depths of despair.

It is the ideal job for a big mouth. It doesn’t matter too much if you put your foot in it, you knew that your chances of meeting that person again were slight.

Like the time I complained about the windy weather we were having to a family from Florida, who were glad to escape the ravages of hurricane Katrina.

Or the time, commenting on Edinburgh traffic, I blithely stated “you know I wouldn’t drive in this city if you paid me”. Doh!

Once, at Edinburgh airport, I helped some passengers put their bags into the next taxi on the rank. The only problem was the driver was missing.
“I’m really sorry”, I said after an extensive search of the area for the cabbie. “The fool must have gone to the toile, let’s get the bags into a car that wants to work”.
At that point I noticed a familiar stuffed tiger on the dashboard. Of course, it was my taxi!
Swallow up ground me.