Love the line “pidgeon came back to court”
A tale of two taxis.
I arrived in Paris CDG last Friday. I thought I’d have plenty of time to make my connecting train from Gare de l’Est. In fact I thought I would have too much time and I’d have a pain in my arse sitting in a coffee shop for a couple of hours tfking hoping not to be moved on.
As it happens I underestimated the horrors of Paris CDG Terminal 2E and the time began to get away from me as I traipsed up hill and down dale to exit the terminal. As I was coming through arrivals somebody phoned me about an urgent matter and my equilibrium was disturbed. I was still on the phone when I came to the taxi exit. A chap who I assumed was airport staff asked me where I was going. I safe Gare de l’Est and quick as a flash he said Gate 16. A young African chap followed me and showed me to a taxi. Then another chap showed up. In hindsight it seems this second chap owned the taxi and the African chap was suggesting to him that he drive me to Paris and give the taxi owner a cut while the taxi owner was on a break. There was an exchange of licences or something and while I knew something was amiss I thought the African lad was an unapproved taxi driver and the taxi owner was undercover police 
Anyway I was running out of time and beggars can’t be choosers. I got into the taxi and asked the African chap what the fare was going to be. He said “Comptoir”. Pointing at the taxi metre. After a while he remembered to put on his seatbelt while driving at about 100kph and we lurched across a lane of traffic. After about 10 minutes I noticed the metre was at 0.00 and I said you know your Comptoir isn’t working. Oh he said that’s not the Comptoir this is the Comptoir and he picked up his mobile and navigated to an app that had something like a taxi meter except that the numbers were spinning around so fast I nearly got sick looking at them.
At this point I relaxed a bit realising that this was an old fashioned shake down and that I wouldn’t be driven into the courtyard of a block of flats and butchered with machetes and never be heard of again.
Anyway in a tragi-comic turn your man was a native of one of those African countries where the language contains a series of clicks and clacks. As we reached the outskirts of Paris he rang one of his pals and started conversing at loud volume clicking and clacking away. Except that he had a stutter and I was stressing about missing my train as we inched along in traffic and the clicks and clacks were first like a machine gun and eventually like a Jack hammer.
We finally got to the Gare with 5 minutes to spare. He turned around to look at me my face like thunder. He opened up his bogey Comptoir app and showed me that I owed him him 125 euro. I made a face to tell him he could fuck himself and eventually settled for 75. I hadn’t time to involve the police.
On the return leg time would be a factor as well. The conventional wisdom is the the RER B train is the quickest way to CDG. But I was tired and didn’t fancy the walk to Gare du Nord and the getting tickets and waiting on a platform and then standing for half an hour on a packed train so I went for a taxi. Of course typical French there was no rhyme nor reason to queuing and about 5 taxis came that should have been mine but were taken by grasping French cunts (including gallingly one by a cunt who had been on the same train as me and spent the journey roaring at his wife). Eventually I manned up and said the next fucking taxi is mine. Sure enough as the taxi pulled in some other French cunt made for it. You can fuck off I told him and he retreated. I got in announced my destination. The driver switched on the meter. Flat fare 58 notes. Traffic was savage but he had a lovely way of weaving in and out of the bus lanes and then hit the hammer on the motorway getting me to me destination in good time. I thanked him profusely and tipped him well.
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Use freenow next time over there. Your app here works there. Was there for 5 days last month. Very cheap in and around the city.
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Ah jaysus Fagan. A man of the world like yourself.
Well told
I didn’t have you down for a greenhorn all the same
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He didn’t want to give in to stereotypes.
I know, I know. Mugged off.
Bla Bla Car is a great app if you’re doing long journeys in France.
I enjoyed that story. I couldn’t read it half quick enough to find out what happened.
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CDG is some shithole in fairness.
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Fagan swallowed his pride for the sake of a good post. We’ve all been there.
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In some places you feel more like a mark than a tourist. Paris is definitely one. You can see the glimmer in the cunts eyes as they rip you off
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Those French train stations are horrible
Was slightly concerned that the story was going to end with Fagan advising he was posting from a prison cell in Paris, after he hit yer man a dig.
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I see what you did there.
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You’ve lost your edge , there’s at least 3 lads in that tale that you could have sparked …
It felt like I was on that journey with you!!
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