Riding along Grosvenor Square west to east with a couple of other people on bikes when a taxi driver with his vehicle in the right hand land and intent on turning left, decides his cab needs to be where we are and, instead of waiting patiently like a normal person and following in behind us, decides that repeated honking of his horn and just pulling his taxi in to our space is the normal, completely non-psychotic way of doing things.
I follow him, and explain at the next lights, that, as professional driver we kinda deserve better than that shit. As his fare looks on aplogetically in the back, his response is 'Am I a professional driver?' and 'Indicators'.
Riding along Grosvenor Square west to east with a couple of other people on bikes when a taxi driver with his vehicle in the right hand land and intent on turning left, decides his cab needs to be where we are and, instead of waiting patiently like a normal person and following in behind us, decides that repeated honking of his horn and just pulling his taxi in to our space is the normal, completely non-psychotic way of doing things.
I follow him, and explain at the next lights, that, as professional driver we kinda deserve better than that shit. As his fare looks on aplogetically in the back, his response is 'Am I a professional driver?' and 'Indicators'.
GET IN THE FUCKING SEA.
Thank you.