Very dangerous over short distances, the Austin FX4. I took it to Contigo – a cocktails and bistro bar food kind of place, courtesy of HGTV this evening. The bar is a stone’s throw from my house, and just beyond the borders of the neighborhood. The furthest my London cab has been in the USA without a trailer in over a year.
Thrilled by the experience, and bouyed by some Pimms and nuts, I decided to treat the old girl to some fuel oil, and trundled to the nearest petrol station for fifteen dollars of diesel. I say trundled. I got up to a giddying 45 miles per hour on Airport Boulevard, before veering off to refuel.
For some reason, I’ve never really used the beast on the open road, but tonight, after stopping to climb up to the balcony of a million dollar home to take a photo of her, I let rip and went running errands. Cherrywood Coffeehouse. In a taxi. Fiesta. In a taxi. Everything is so much more interesting. In a taxi.
So if you’re interested in adding interest to your life, consider buying a London Cab in the USA. Mine, is for sale. And I’ll probably regret selling it later, but they say it’s better to regret something you’ve done, than something you haven’t. And besides, I need room for a fire truck. As my esteemed spriritual counsellor says, you’re never going to regret having had a fire truck.
