A week ago, struggling with a huge suitcase and desperate to get to work on time, I hailed a black cab near Angel station, Islington. The driver seemed chatty but harmless enough, talking about the area and places he knew. But before long I started to feel uncomfortable that his eyes kept darting back into his mirror, not focusing on the road ahead but me, as he asked me where I live, work and my age before going on and on about how it was a lovely one and telling me I didn’t want to know what he got up to at 19 in a ‘wink wink nudge nudge’ manner. He started talking about going out on the pull nightly, asking if I spent my evenings clubbing and looking for ‘boys’ until I had to make up an imaginary boyfriend to make him stop the weird questions. He finally let me go after telling me I was his type and “if i was younger, young lady, you’d have been in trouble….” with a really grimey leer, apparently unaware of the fact a 40ish man hitting on a teenage girl alone in his cab is frightening enough, let alone inferring the ‘trouble’ I could expect were he a young stallion. If I was less creeped out and panicked, i’d have recorded his cab number, unfortunately I was too preocupied with getting myself out of the situation and leaping out at a red light with a huge case was not an option.
If anyone encounters this guy, I suggest you do what I should have done, and given him some real fucking trouble.