Photo Shoots and Taxi Drivers

Yesterday held a few interesting adventures. Rather than trek all the way to Spotswood, I went to St Kilda. Much nicer. No industrial or sewerage smells for starters. Not actually being at work for seconds!

My day was spent in a photography studio helping run activities and demos for kids who were having their piccies taken for marketing stuff. There was slime involved. There was a lot of "Please don't play with that", "No shooting rockets at people", "Don't touch the person on the Van de Graaff or you'll both get an electric shock" and "No, sorry, don't touch the person on the Van de Graaff".

The day was a little wearing, but the real adventures were had on my taxi rides to and from the studio. An hour each way in peak hour traffic.

The trip "to" was with an Indian cabbie who played me some Indian prayer music, which he translated for me as we went. We discussed the trouble with young people today. Because I told him I was new to Melbourne he also gave me a running commentary of where we were, what roads we were on, etc. and how you shouldn't travel during peak hour, particularly towards the city. Well duh. The joys of having old ladies as passengers who don't know which bus station they need to go to - $76 later he took her home.

He was very nice, although I didn't like the way he drove and looked at the street directory at the same time. I just don't enjoy the mild adrenalin rush associated with thinking we might run up the car in front of us. I made it there in one piece though.

The trip "from" was certainly an interesting experience. I would also say historically educational. My Greek grandpa-like driver began the trip telling me how he had enjoyed his day as he had all 'lady' passengers (I don't know if I count as a lady or not). He likes that because they talk to him. He then told me he would put on some romantic music for me - thankfully it was Nat King Cole, so I could actually enjoy it. I then suggested that he was a bit cheeky and I might have to tell my husband on him. He lamented that I had a husband and said he would hold my hand, which he did. Sounds a little weird but it was very funny. It was actually quite entertaining. He has a wife, but she lives in Greece, but that's OK because he has girlfriends here to keep him company. Also, it is important to share love and respect women by giving them presents. He complained that his daughters spend al his money, but I explained that that was the right thing for them to be doing.

The whole trip home he told me all about the history of Melbourne. I panicked for a second and thought that perhaps my Pop had somehow transformed into a little Greek man, but when he didn't mention the good old days when the pubs shut at 6pm and men were home with their families, I was reassured. I did however learn all about the first, second and third temples in Melbourne and where they were. I also heard the list of all of the parks in Melbourne, and what streets surround them. He then tested my listening skills by asking me who had designed the Royal Botanic Gardens. Thankfully I remembered the name 'Miller' so it looked like I had been paying attention after all.

When I got out he asked to shake my hand and said I was very lovely and wished me a good evening. I giggled all the way to the front door. A very strange little man.

Suffice to say, I'm glad that I don't catch taxis every day.