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Being robbed while
working in your cab can be soul destroying. It
happened to DaC driver and Call Centre Senior
Systems Supervisor Joe Brazil. This is his
story…
‘Distraction theft’ is a term you often
hear. It’s usually at a cash point,
jewellers or other shop with valuables on show
but it’s surprising how seldom you hear of
it within the cab trade… but it happens!
You're
reaching the end of the night and looking
forward to finishing, so you decide to take a
chance on three likely lads at the kerbside.
"The End, please."
"What, the club,"
you respond, "the one in West central
street?"
"Yes,
that's the one…" and off you go
remembering Museum St and off to the left.
When you pull in to the front of the club,
there's the usual menagerie on show; doormen,
link men and solitary pirates blocking the
road, so you pull up on the right hand kerb,
bang outside the club. Of the three men in the
back, one gets out and comes to the driver’s
window. You turn, expecting to be paid. Then,
thrust from behind your left ear you see a
twenty being offered towards you. Lovely!
Seven pound fare - twenty pound note! You
start rifling through your change for the ten
pound notes in the money bag – you know,
with the strap around the gearlever so that
no-one can grab it!
None left,
terrific. So you reach for your wallet, take
out a ten, put the wallet on your lap as you
hand the three pound coins from your moneybag
to the chap in the back, off they go and on
you go dodging the usual detritus on the way
out. It took one more job and about
twenty-five minutes before suddenly thinking:
I don't remember putting my wallet back into
my pocket? Maybe it dropped onto the floor?
Careless - but no. It must be in the moneybag.
I do that sometimes, but not this time.
Foolish
isn't it, you stopped thinking, broke
your |
Joe looks a bit
happier now.
usual rules - you know, about taking care of
yourself. You know you shouldn't do
stupid things, but you’re tired, not as
clued up you may say and there’s the rub.
You stop, turn out the front of the cab and
check everywhere. Where the hell is it!
Pictures
of the kids, twenty years worth of phone
numbers written on the back of business
cards, I know its untidy but I've always
done it. Macro card, Costco card, bank cards
- all gone. You get home, sick to the pit of
your stomach, your night’s takings gone
and you can’t understand it. Where the
hell has it gone? The strange thing is, you
didn't notice - you were distracted!
Of course
I know now. The following day while at the
garage having a new electric window motor
fitted - expense, like buses, always travels
together - I get a call from home. The
police at Great Russell St have found the
wallet, cash is missing but the rest is
still there. Funny thing was that it was the
pictures of the kids and the phone numbers I
would have missed! Cash is transitory, but I
would obviously have preferred to have had
it. I'll phone them when I get in, but how
did they get the home number? It’s not the
kind of thing you write down?
Well there's the
second part of this cautionary tale. When I
was in Ireland recently, a female cousin who
had just moved to London had given me her
mobile number and just written Suzy
on a scrap of paper, which I popped into my
wallet. Out of all the numbers and work
business cards, that's the one the police
chose. Good job it wasn't a number you
couldn't explain to your misses… too true!
Joe Brazil (K16) |
