The taxi home from the pub

So last night I went to the pub. The boozer in question is fairly close to my parents house so me and Emily went to visit them and then I walked off down to the pub to enjoy a few beers with my dad, brother and a few relatives.

“I’ve booked a taxi”, said I as I walked out of my parents house. I did so because Emily would probably leave my parents house before I fell out of the pub later in the evening. If she drove home then I’d obviously have no transport back – hence the taxi.

“Tell me in advance though if you think you’re still going to be here though, so I can cancel it”, I said. Emily was talking to my mom so I figured that if she was still talking then I could catch a free ride home.

So what do you think happened?

Well, it’s way past 11pm and (thanks to the lovely new licensing laws here in the UK) I’m still enjoying a few beers. I check my phone but no, there’s no missed calls and no text messages. A few minutes later and my taxi arrives. I hop in and we start driving up the road….

First gear…. second gear…. *RING RING* … *RING RING*

I answered the phone. It was Emily..

“I’m still at your moms house, where are you?”

“I’m in the blinkin’ taxi love!”

“Oh! Tell him to stop! How far have you got ?”

“About 100 metres?!”

I told him to stop. Unfortunately though I’d already run up a bill on the meter of 2.80 due to the late hour and the “pickup charge”. I got 3 out and paid him.. To make matters worse it was the three quid I’d won on the gambler in the pub!

I walked back to my parents in the cold – it was only round the corner so I was there in seconds. I couldn’t get over it though – that must be my shortest taxi ride ever. 3 to literally drive 100 metres up the road – I could still see the pub when I got out. Nightmare. :(