Story 2: Why I’ll never set foot in a cab alone again

I had lived in England for four months, and had moved to Slough, where I taught at an excellent primary school. It was early December, 2013 , and Christmas was right around the corner — my favorite time of year! I was excited to go home for the holidays. But not everyone was in the holiday spirit.

One Friday evening, after a long day of teaching, I went out for drinks in Windsor, accompanied by a big group of co-workers. When one teacher turned to me and told me she was tired, we decided to leave early and go home to catch some Z’s. We said our goodbyes and made our way to the exit, where a line of registered cabs waited for fares. We walked over to the first one and requested a quote for a ride to Slough (~6 miles). After hearing the unreasonable quote, we began walking towards the next cab. At this time, the driver offered a lower price, to which we agreed. Part way through the ride, he demanded the original price, claiming he never offered a lower one. We tried reasoning with him, but decided it wasn’t worth it after he threatened to stop the car and leave us roadside. We agreed to pay him the original amount, but that wasn’t enough. He stopped the car and insisted we pay him right away. We explained that he’d have to take us to the ATM (a few houses down from our house), but he refused to drive until we paid. When we tried to get out of the car, he began driving, which caused us to fall out into the road. Before we could get up, he was hovering over us, shouting profanities and threatening to hurt us unless we paid him right away. We got up and tried to get away, at which point he physically assaulted my friend. He then grabbed hold of my arm. I tugged and shouted, “don’t touch me!” He intimidatingly asked, “what are you gonna do about it?” I reached into my purse and fumbled to find my phone. I tried dialing 999 (the equivalent of 911), but he snatched my phone, got into his car, and drove off. We walked the rest of the distance and called the police as soon as we arrived. Luckily, some CCTV footage captured us getting into the cab, allowing the police to trace the cab number back to the driver. He was arrested, then let out on bail, while a trial settled the matter. Unfortunately, nothing amounted of it — it was our word against his. The CCTV near the incident was down that night and didn’t record what happened. We had no proof. His lawyers repeatedly got the case adjourned and moved to a later date. We’d sit in the Witness Protection room of the courthouse for hours, only to find out we’d have to come back another day. The next date was scheduled for November, 2014. By that time, my year in England had ended, and I had moved back home.

He’s probably still out there, driving a cab, picking up other passengers who take a leap of faith, and trust that he’ll get them home safely. We had no way of warning them, no way of saving them. It has played on my conscious ever since — until I moved to San Francisco and discovered Uber and Lyft.