The question tonight is which way to go?

More extemporising about the nature of blogs? About the comfort and the joy of feeling lost?

Or some rambling about stuff that happened to me and current events?

Wow, tough call...

*peers into the stage lights trying to see which way the audience want me to go?

Can't tell... Gosh, its quiet out there...

Anyway, how about a story about a taxi driver?

While writing the following I will mostly be listening to Carter USM "The Only Living Boy in New Cross", "Sherrif Fatman" and then a selection from Weezer

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So, I had ordered a taxi - and is the way of these things, it took forever to arrive, this was to be first of two taxis today...

The taxi man buzzes the door and I wander down the stairs from the office. Sure enough there's one of those crappy van taxis, blue in colour, parked by the kerb...

A sign on the door says "Pull Handle out to open" - so I'm thinking - it's going to be one of those difficult entrances...

So, once I'm in, I give it a good old slam to make sure its closed...

And the bloke, who was grey haired, bearded, beglassed and wearing a Celtic tracksuit turns and gives me a look...

Now, sometimes when you meet someone for the first time and you make initial eye contact with them, you get a sense of whether or not you're going to get on... We were not going to get on...

He continues to give me the look...

I'm a little confused by the look - which was special...

So, I say "Taxi for Liam?" and he grunts...

I'm still puzzled...

"You gave that a good fuckin slam didna ya..." opines the taxi driver...

Hmm... we are definitely not getting on...

"Well", I say "sometimes those doors are tricky..."

"Hmmph" says my new best friend...

"Better go the toll - look at the fuckin' state a tha" he says, eloquently demonstrating with a single gesture the heavy traffic on one side of the road...

Obviously, I'm delighted to be in the hands of such a polished and professional driver and tourist guide, so I say "Yeah"

I don't feel like we really connected...

I cheer myself up by admiring the commemorative celtic coins or medals, I'm not sure which, it's not really my area... Anyway, they were glued to the inner windowsills in the back on both sides...

You might think an odd decorative decision... but you're forgetting the sounds of the WolfTones drifting from the stereo as they sing "Give me the Irish Republican Army"... Altogether it set quite the tone...

Anyway, we exchanged numbers, he's going to meet me in the Kneecap Inn for a pint at the weekend...