Waiting for a cab is not one of life�s more pleasant experiences. Waiting for a cab at the cemetery is even less pleasant. The occasion was the first father�s day after my father�s death and mum and my brother accompanied me. We had finished paying our respects and were now ready to leave. I called Premier cabs and booked a cab.
We slowly wandered to our pick up point, taking our time to pass the impressive white and black marble of the Italian and Jewish residents of the cemetery community. We arrived at our pick up and waited. And waited. And waited.
Fifteen minutes after making my original call I received a call on my mobile informing me that the taxi was approaching. But we looked in vain to see everything but a taxi approach us in the procession of vehicles for Father�s Day.
Twenty minutes later I called Premier cabs a second time, only to get a woman who was like a human foghorn. To her barking orders of �WHERE ARE YOU� I politely replied that we were still at the Macquarie Park Cemetery. STREET? I gave the address. ARE YOU AT THE CREMATORIUM? No. I added that we had received a call five before telling us that a cab was on the way. She put me on hold then returned with the idiotic comment: ARE YOU SURE THE CALL WAS FOR YOU? Yes. She said she would follow it up then hung up without even telling me how much longer we would have to wait.
Thirty minutes later I was well and truly over waiting for Premier to pick us up. I called them for the third time. Luckily I didn�t get the woman with the foghorn voice again. The excuse Premier gave was that the taxi was lost in transit between the Crematorium and the cemetery. I had never heard of a Bermuda triangle being located between two cemeteries before.
Just as we were beginning to think we would have to spend the night with the other residents of the cemetery a taxi pulled up. And it wasn�t Premier but the second cab, Combined Taxis, that I had called ten minutes before. At least Combined actually knew how to find a cemetery on the map.
Glad that we didn�t have to make hard beds for ourselves for the night we packed into the taxi and it took us out the gates and down to the first set of lights. And who should pull up directly opposite but a Premier cab, 45 minutes after I had made my first call. The driver of the cab then began to argue with Combined�s driver that he had stolen his fare. I didn�t bother getting involved. I was secretly pleased we had got Combined because they had sent a Silver Service cab which has leather seats and magazines in the back to read. I was also pleased that Premier would not get our money for their incompetence.
Taxi companies obviously think that people that visit cemeteries are in no hurry to get home. Next time I ring for a taxi from a cemetery I will make sure that I hedge my bets by ringing for two cabs instead of one. If I�m going to have to do the taxi tango again I will make sure it�s on my terms and not the taxi�s.
