“I love you Samantha…promise”

Samantha is London taxi driver.

Samantha, in this last week, drove me from Berkeley Square (bloody hell, they are rich round there) to Finsbury Square. It took a long time (£18.20 which I made up to £19.00) because Boris is digging up all the roads (eg. Oxford Street).

Paper tissues at the ready. And a blast of ‘Jerusalem’. This is about Enterprise
Britain. This is her story.

Samantha, a Londoner, was a veterinary nurse for ten years. She had a partner (note to DC: “stuff your married couples tax proposals you right wing patronising public school plonker” – well, that’s Samantha’s opinion). They had two girls together: Erin, now aged seven, and Eden, now aged five. Her father died last autumn and her mother is in a home.

Samantha wanted more from life. She wanted to express herself. She gave up her safe job and trained to be a taxi driver. It was hard but she made it. She is now her own boss. She has found herself.

Her partner walked out on her. He could no longer dominate her. She now has two daughters, a mortgage, she rents her taxi, government taxes everywhere, rising diesel costs and the rest.

She cannot earn enough working nine hours a day to pay her overheads. She therefore has to pay a childminder so she can work at nights, six days a week. By doing so she is now winning. In nine years time she will have cleared her debts (apart from the mortgage).

Samantha is happy. She has found herself. She is a proud member of Enterprise Britain. She would like another relationship and receives plenty of offers from drunken bankers.

In case you are interested she is very pretty.

She told me one lovely story. She was so hard up for cash over Christmas (her daughters had a great festive period) that she had to work on New Year’s Eve. She picked up four lads in Leicester Square and took them to Finchley. The fare was £80. They gave her £60. So she drove them to Finchley Police Station. By the time she had persuaded the police to help all four youths had crawled through a window having forced the security bolt and run away.

Samantha heard a ringing tone. It was the mobile phone of one of the criminals. She answered it. An irate girlfriend demanded to know where Simon was.

“Right” thought Samantha. “Retaliation for my lost £20”.

She spoke to the angry girlfriend. Putting on her best East London accent she said: “He’s with me Darling. Does he ask you to do what I’ve just had to do….”

As you read this Samantha is probably driving her taxi around the street of London. She has debts, and taxes, and forms to fill and sleepness nights.

She has Erin and Eden and her self respect.

Samantha is Enterprise Britain.

Please leave a comment - we all like them