So many car doors, so few motorists with brains.
There we were, riding up Swan street on the way home. Suddenly Jo yells out “lookout,” I scream out “Door!” Yep, both passengers in the taxi (Victorian registration M-####) had decided that sitting in the lane of stationary traffic was enough, so without indicating, pulling over to the side of the road, or obeying any other form of road laws, they’d just thrown open both left-hand doors and got out. Jo made it around them, I couldn’t swerve far enough without hitting her wheel so I ran into the back of the calf of the rear passenger. Both passengers then started screaming at me to watch where I was FW#(%%%ing going and get off the F*#W)@#$%ing road. Taxi driver meanwhile had driven off, caring only that he’d made another fare in the minimum possible time.
