Romeo One – A Disguised Box of Flaws

On the morning of the first day after I had been assigned Romeo one, I was extremely excited. For the first time, I was really looking forward to going to work. I was also looking forward to night time because I could now go anywhere and at any time because I could see the road. There would now be need of waiting for unwitting guides to escort me in the darkness. Romeo one was reputed as being the car with the brightest headlights in the company. My colleagues profusely congratulated me on my “enviable” upgrading and I really believed that they were genuinely happy for me. Only it was not so.

Romeo one was the only station wagon and so all jobs involving luggage were assigned to her. This was an obvious advantage because I now had my work cut out for me. What I didn’t know was that there was a downside to this. Most clients did not want to be picked up by this “truck”. A lot of them actually believed that this car should remain parked until a client with excess baggage showed up. They even said as much, to my face every time I went to pick them. This was not a flaw on the part of Romeo one – at least not in the true sense of the word – but it was bad for business. This however did not stop the romantic one from literally becoming an airport taxi.

Romeo one and I would show up at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport at least once every shift, but often more. Additionally, I had regular clients who usually had a lot of luggage. There was one who was a professional photographer and he had lots of bulky equipment packed in duffel bags. He was also often accompanied by shapely girls who were apparently his photography subjects, but judging by the way they carried on I believed they were more than just that.

One of the main reasons why many clients did not like to be ferried in Romeo one was the fact that she was not particularly comfortable. Her cushioning was rather hard and the back seat resembled a bench with a back rest. Those clients who liked riding back left did not look quite so elegant on Romeo one’s back seat. They looked out rightly ridiculous. This was because the back rest was rather short and any adult would look like a clown in those tiny circus cars. The whole interior assembly was also constantly squeaky due to being overworked during the regular folding up of the rear seat to accommodate more luggage.

Romeo one was a convenient car to have but she had absolutely no style (imagine she was plain white!). She didn’t have the features I had taken for granted in Victor, the main one being the radio. Romeo one had a radio alright but it qualified to be a museum exhibit – to teach children about the historical development of radios. The radio only received in mid-wave and the most interesting programs I could listen to were primary school radio lessons. At least I got a refresher in elementary education. That however was not the worst thing about the radio. The worst was the speaker. It was only one and it couldn’t have been more than 2 inches in diameter. It was fastened somewhere inside the dashboard and it snorted more than it talked. If at least the speaker had been good, it would have made my “school work” a lot more interesting.

Romeo one was not intended to be driven fast. She had a four speed manual gear box and a manual steering. Getting her to move fast required all the skill I could muster. When I did manage to accelerate her fast enough for my taste, she would ruin the mood by ringing some chimes from somewhere behind the speedometer. This was ostensibly to warn me that I was over-speeding – at 110 km/h! With Romeo one, you couldn’t just floor the accelerator pedal. If you did, the engine would cut off – like the rudest kind of a speed governor. Instead, you had to woo her gently in order to accelerate her. This, I came to learn was because she had a long running problem with her carburetor (yes she had one), and no one had been able to fix it. The problem also made her a guzzler and now I knew why the other drivers had avoided her. This was because fuel “ate” into a driver’s commission – which was calculated as a percentage from the money which remained after the fuel cost had been deducted from the daily collections.

The carburetor problem made Romeo one to smoke badly (really thick black smoke) and nobody wanted to park behind her unless he didn’t mind ending up with a black patch on his car when she was started and revved. On its own, this problem would have been bearable had it not been compounded by another more serious one. Romeo one had been involved in many minor accidents in the past and all had involved her boot door (tail gate). The panel beating jobs had been done well apart from the fact that the door was now not completely air tight. The black smoke would therefore find its way into the car if it was driven at more than 60 km/h. At first I never realized why I was always teary eyed every time I drove fast – and I am not an emotional person. When I look back now, I don’t understand how my clients and I didn’t die from carbon monoxide poisoning.