When I left the village to look for a
job, I had no intention of attempting to make a living from there again. Neither
did I intend to sit and wait to be called back to the taxi company. Instead, I
intended to wait every day next to “my” red car until it was fixed. It was with
this resolve that I borrowed bus fare from my brother and went to “work” the
following day.
The other drivers were nice to me. They respected my brother and they extended this respect to me. We would sit in their cars and chat while they waited for clients. Most of the conversations never ended. This was because a driver would either be called on the radio call to pick a client, or one would just walk up and board. This way I learnt to be content with a large catalogue of interesting but unfinished stories.
On those long waiting days, I was very conscious of the differences I observed between the already working drivers and myself. They used to dress well and they seemed to have lots of money. They also had refined manners. This I attributed to their exposure to a diverse clientele. Another attribute which I found particularly beneficial to me was their generosity. For all those days I had not started working, I never went without a meal. They really spoilt me.
Just like the drivers, the cars were also neat and clean. They were all the latest (for those days) models saloons and sedan (this was only one). They were washed everyday and serviced regularly. They were in tip top condition. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on one. Though many of the drivers promised to let me work with their cars on weekends, or some other not so busy day, they never did. This was because I had not been interviewed and in that company, an interview was as good as a contract – recognized by all.
Every day that I went to wait for my car, I expected to see a mechanic coming with his tool box to fix it. However, this did not happen – at least not when I would have wanted it to happen. Other people were recruited, they waited with me, then gave up and went away never to come back. I told myself I was not going to give up. I really needed this job. Eventually, I also gave up – after almost a month. I became uncomfortable asking my brother for bus fare – not that he complained of anything.
Two days after I stopped going to wait, I was informed that the red car had been fixed and assigned to someone else. I was back to square one.
The other drivers were nice to me. They respected my brother and they extended this respect to me. We would sit in their cars and chat while they waited for clients. Most of the conversations never ended. This was because a driver would either be called on the radio call to pick a client, or one would just walk up and board. This way I learnt to be content with a large catalogue of interesting but unfinished stories.
On those long waiting days, I was very conscious of the differences I observed between the already working drivers and myself. They used to dress well and they seemed to have lots of money. They also had refined manners. This I attributed to their exposure to a diverse clientele. Another attribute which I found particularly beneficial to me was their generosity. For all those days I had not started working, I never went without a meal. They really spoilt me.
Just like the drivers, the cars were also neat and clean. They were all the latest (for those days) models saloons and sedan (this was only one). They were washed everyday and serviced regularly. They were in tip top condition. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on one. Though many of the drivers promised to let me work with their cars on weekends, or some other not so busy day, they never did. This was because I had not been interviewed and in that company, an interview was as good as a contract – recognized by all.
Every day that I went to wait for my car, I expected to see a mechanic coming with his tool box to fix it. However, this did not happen – at least not when I would have wanted it to happen. Other people were recruited, they waited with me, then gave up and went away never to come back. I told myself I was not going to give up. I really needed this job. Eventually, I also gave up – after almost a month. I became uncomfortable asking my brother for bus fare – not that he complained of anything.
Two days after I stopped going to wait, I was informed that the red car had been fixed and assigned to someone else. I was back to square one.
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