Pet Taxi 6 the last one?????

Pet Taxi 6 the last one?????

Hi lads,,

Day 6.

26/6/09.

9AM: Rise from The pit, shave head, pluck eyebrows, nose and ears. Quick shower and head off to 2TOUCH for job interview.

10am Arrive at 2TOUCH suited and booted. Greeted by an abrupt bitch called Tracy. Get interragated for 45 mins by said bitch.

10.45: Get taken out onto the call centre floor where I have to sit in with a sales advisor and listen to him making calls to potential customers.

This 18 year old kid is the sort of person I fucking hate ringing me,,he's super aggressive in his sales pitch and will not take no for an answer, telling me

"you get 75p per sale man" fuck me! I've wasted so much of my life waiting for a job like this fucker. 75p per sales?? weeeeeeeeeeeee.

I listened to this skinny little cocky cunt torture peope on the phone for 30 mins then he got put in his place by some Welsh bloke that refused to cave

in to his constant bullshit, eventually telling the kid to "FUCK OFF" before slamming the phone down on him,lol. (I was pissing myself looking at his face)

Anyway, I later got a call saying I had got the job and can start on 13th of July if I wanted it. (yeah right,lol...all those 75p's how the fuck can I say no?)

12:30pm Sis turns up at the house, I need to drop her off home and then pick up 2 customers from Barnes area.

The background goes something like this. Carol and Ramon met in Spain 25 years ago while she was working as a rep for Thompsons and he was a reception guy

at one of the Hotles she worked for.

They got married, had 3 kids and for the last 22 years have lived in Tenerife where they owned a car rental firm.

Fast forward to today and they have sold the house and moved back to Sunderland and their 6 dogs have been in Quarantine since January.

The job is to take them to Manchester Airport to pick the dogs up as they are arriving on a flight with Monarch at 5pm.

1PM: I pick up the couple and they seem really nice, (Carol's a proper MILF) I might add.

The sat nav says that the journey should take 2h 37mins.

I worked out that we should arrive at 3.37pm. They can go do what they need to do while I find an eatery in the airport. Get dogs then head off back

and allowing a little more time for any complications we should get home at 8pm. (hopefully)

All's going well, these two are telling me about their adventures and escapades from abroad, I'm really enjoying the trip with these two cos they are so "normal" and chatty.

3pm: We're on the M62 about 20 miles from the Airport and we hit traffic, there's signs saying there's been an accident and there will be delays. (It's Friday and just

about peak time so it's no major hassle so far if we get throug this quick)

4PM: We've moved about half a mile ffs. We're right on the junction for the Trafford Centre. I've never been but I presume it's a Metro Centre type place and

now the traffic is fucking mental.

5pm: We've still got 13 miles to fucking go and then the fucking bombshell. The radio station traffic news announces" If possible stay off the ring road as there are huge

jams due to FUCKING TAKE THAT CONCERT at the Trafford Park Arena or some shit. WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF????

6pm. We get to the fucking Airport. I head off for something to eat and Carol and Ramon go to information desk to find out where the dogs are.

6.45pm The fucking bird in big Joes cafe has somehow managed to lose my oder chitty for a fucking poxy omelette that tasted shit btw on the way to the kitchen.

10 minutes later it arrives. £7.50 FOR THIS SHIT? what a fucking con, the chef musta split a fuckin egg and made someone else one looking at how fucking small it was.

Anyway, I finish it in about 90 seconds and ring Ramon to ask how they are getting on and where they are.

Turns out Livestock etc go to the Freight Terminal and I need to find it. I go to informaton and ask some smug bitch where it is and she direscts me.

"Exit the car park, drive out of Airport back onto the M65 heading towars Chester and take Junction 6." Are you fucking kidding me or what FML?

I pull up to the exit gate with ticket and realise I havent validated the fucker. I have about 6 Taxi's behind me, I can't reverse so I have to jump


out and run the 50 yards to the machine,lol.

FUcking horns going off like fuck. Arseholes shouting out of windows at me etc,lol. (The day I'm having? FUCK EM!)

7.10pm: I manage to find the Freight Terminal and see Carol and Ramon waiting for me. She's in tears, he's looking grumpy. I forgot to add earlier that they had been told

on Wednesdaythat one of their dogs had been killed 2 days earlier in Quarantine in Tenerife after one got out of the enclosure and was ragged to bits by a German Shephard

compound Patrol dog so they were already pissed off before the journey had begun.

They get in the van and tell me that the Vet in Tenerife that had gave the dogs the innoculations and jabs etc had dated the forms wrongly by putting the date that

the results came back and not the date the vaccinations had been administered. So,, the poor twats had to wait another 3 weeks before they could get the dogs back.

In the meantime they are going to have to have the dogs taken to kennels in Yorkshire that had a quarantine area for the next 3 weeks costing £1800 ontop of the £1900

they had paid to get the poor fuckers flown over. WTF???

7.20pm we set off back home, again 2h.37mins on the sat nav so hopfully get home for around 10pm. (Like that's going to fuckin happen eh?)

9.20PM: Just short of Teeside Ramon says we need to stop as he's fucking starving and needs a sandwich.

We pull into a Little Chef and go inside, now Carol says she's hungry so we all sit down and order something.

9.45pm We set off again. I estimate we only have around 25-30 mins to go and look forward to getting home.

9.55pm. It's foggy as fuck now and I have a camper van infront of me,,I'm taking my time and staying well back and Bam! the fucker slams his brakes on. I hit the brakes too and

almost smash into the back of him.

We're alongside a slip road but I can't see why he's stopped until he pulls onto the slip road and starts to drive up it.

There's a copper car sideways on along side the Junction blocking both lanes and the Camper bloke obviously didn't see him until he was right ontop of him with the fog.

The copper is out of the car and signalling me to get off the A19 and up the sliproad. I just start to turn and pull up the slip road and I hear a fucking really

loud skidding noise, I turn to my left and see a car just smack right into the copper car knocking it about 50 yards up the road WTF??? I actually felt the wind as this fucker

flew past me.

OMFG THAT WAS CLOSE.

I head up the slip road and the camper is rejoining the 19 at the top so I decide to follow.

2 MINS later there's a jam. A police woman is walking down the middle of the two lanes and telling drivers to stay in their vehicles and keep their lights on and btw

no'ones going anywhere for a while. Turns out there had been an accident involving a 1 or 2 tankers and 12-20 cars up ahead. (you might have heard it on the radio this morning)

Apparently It's still closed off. So we're fucking stuck there, can't move and after 2 fuckin hours they tell us we all have to U-Turn and head back down the road

the wrong way and get off the previous junction and go another route,lol.. (YOU'RE HAVING A FUCKING LAUGH AREN'T YOU?)

12.30AM I get the couple home and arrive home myself. A 6 hour run max had managed to take 11 fucking hours,lol.. (FOR FUCKING NOWT TOO,LOL)

I sit down, light up a smoke and decide that this DEFINATELY was "THE LAST FUCKING TIME!"