Linka On The Road

Hello to my friends of the cyber variety! As you should know by now, I am Linka the lovable Cabbie taking passengers on wonderful journeys around the gleaming city of Melbourne, my new home. Linka is very happy to call Melbourne her home, as she learnt that it is the most livable city in the world – indeed, when Linka looks around she sees many living people, it is good.

Anyway, today I wish tell you a tale of mystery and action, the kind of fable one could really write a novel about and sell billions of copies worldwide - even more than that suspicious vampire/threesome/cannibalism/teenage story that Linka thought she might read the other day to expand her knowledge of the West and the language of English.

Linka found the Twilight to be not very truthful, as she knows that firstly, true love is rare (Linka has received zero hits on her eharmony and RSVP profiles and does not like the dark dating) and that secondly, Vampire’s live in Transylvania. Silly author should do research, like Linka researches her new home through her Taxi. One thing that Linka has researched lately is the art of being a detective.

It was the week of last, and Linka had just finished watching the story of the thugs in Melbourne, Underbelly. This show seemed to Linka to be an education of how business in Melbourne works and was not only informative but also very addictive. Linka called in sick to work for 4 days straight last week so that she could watch the show all at once, this is a special Australian trick that Linka learnt was quite normal. She did not leave the house or eat solid food for days, surviving on the milk of cows for energy.

When I finally finished the series and depleted my sources of milk, I decided it would be time to resume my life as a Taxi Driver. Linka got into her special yellow car, but felt different, somehow Linka could seeing criminals everywhere and felt like she could be a policeman with the little lights on her car, not a humble Taxi driver. But Linka remembered her car was yellow, and knew deep inside she had to service the streets of Melbourne in the way she had always done, by getting to destinations quickly and safely.

Linka was happy it was a Saturday night because it meant she was very busy, and could earn back the money she had spent on buying her box set of Underbelly (because piracy is bad) as well as the money she lost whilst being “sick”. Linka drove around the streets of Melbourne and recognized many locations from her viewing of them on the TV box. Finally, as the sun began to peek over the horizon Linka picked up her last passenger, a young boy who was clearly influenced by the silly juice that many people drink on the end of weeks. The passenger told Linka where to go and then fell asleep like a baby on the back seat. Linka made sure her coin carrycase was securely locked, because even though the boy was asleep she knew 1. Many Melbournians were criminals and 2. She has not forgotten what those Not So Nice Boys had done on her trip to the Mountain one time. Linka arrived on her passengers street in a timely fashion, lucky because the boy proceeded to open the door and vomit before Linka even had the chance to ask for the street number. The boy paid and exited the vehicle, leaving the smell of vodka in the air, a scent Linka knows well.

Just as Linka was returning to the taxi Terminus around a half of an hour later, she sensed that something was not quite right. Surely enough, Linka spotted a small black object wedged in the seat, a phone or something more sinister? Linka thought of Linka’s cabbie code number 22: ALWAYS THOROUGHLY EXAMINE MYSTERIOUS OBJECTS IN CASE THEY ARE DANGEROUS LIKE THE UMBRELLA DIPPED IN POISON USED AGAINST BULGARIAN DISSEDENTS Linka’s heart pounding like a heavy heavy drum as she cautiously extracted the object and examined it very carefully. After a long time, Linka established that the object was not a gun or a bomb but a simple phone, an anti-climax, surely, but something stirred within Linka - she could be a detective and return this phone! 

Linka knew it must have been her last passenger because HE had sat in the front seat next to her, a very rare feat (sometimes Linka thinks she is scary looking because her passengers always sit in the backseat). Anyway, Linka retraced her steps/wheels back to the boy’s street with the use of her GPS device, very clever Linka thought. When she cruised into the street for the second time that night, she realized that she did not know which was the house of the little phone. Linka thought to herself, what would a detective do? A plan formed in her brilliant Russian mind. Linka would TXT each of the friends in the passenger’s phone and ask which was HIS house! Linka used the SMS to ask many people and finally discovered the special number. TSAR!

As Linka placed the phone on its rightful doorstep she felt a sense of great satisfaction, the satisfaction that she was sure many sneaky KGB spies had felt after completing dangerous missions for Russia. Linka felt that she had helped a Melbourne citizen in a way that the police in Underbelly had failed to do for a long time.

Melbourne was a dangerous city, but Linka was Russian, she could take it on in her special yellow police car.

Hello again my cyber comrades.  Once more, I am Linka, and I am here today to share with you another tale of taxis and merriment.  It was a very pleasant evening, as the evenings always are in this, the finest city Linka has ever had privilege of calling home.  Very different from the harsh winters Linka grew up with in the old country.  Linka remembers as small girl back in Omsk, Papa Blotski would often wrap little Linka in the family rug, so as to encourage warmth.  Much vodka was shared before slumber - as was tradition during the winters- and sleep free of frostbite would surely follow.  Linka still follows family tradition, but now no longer needs to wrap herself in rugs.  It is great burden off back, as you can imagine solo rug wrapping is something even Linka would struggle with. 

As Linka was saying- it was one of the most pleasant winter evenings she has ever had privilege to encounter, and as a result my spirits were high.  Linka enjoyed many sociable passengers that evening, as it was the end of weeks, a time where people celebrate with much enthusiasm.  It was long into the dark night when I pulled over to pick up the last passengers of the night.  It was in the a.m, and while Linka is hard worker, sleep is still important if one is to maintain awareness on road.  Also necessary to preserve girlish good looks.  Into my taxi hopped two young men, and I could tell they had been having many good times that evening.  They were very loud, and there was much singing and jubilation from them.  It was a lot of fun at first, like a festival in my back seat, but my head began to ache from so many high notes.  I politely asked the boys if Linka could have a turn singing as well, and after surprised silence, they were very excited to hear Linka express vocal talent.  I do not like to brag, but back in the old country, Linka was young talent of great potential.  Linka was once described as the songbird of Omsk.  This may be slight exaggeration on townspeople’s part; but Linka was and still is a musical wizard.  After clearing throat, I delivered to them a rendition of Ekaterina Ryabova’s ‘Malenky Prints’, and I think they were very impressed.  One of the boys even had tears in his eyes.

These two boys lived very far away from where I had picked them up.  As we drove, the buildings turned to trees, and there was much up and down, up and down, as we drove over hills and giant speed bumps- the biggest Linka has ever had privilege of driving over.  I was to drop them at the foot of Mt.Waverly, or so they had told me.  I peeled my eyes but I could not see any mountains anywhere.  A lot of large hills, but nothing Linka would call a mountain.  Before I could safely deliver them to their homestead, disaster struck.  We had exhausted our fuel supply on the great drive to the mountain, and we needed to replenish immediately.  Usually Linka would never refuel with passengers in the car.  Linka’s job is to get people where they need to go- not to get them to a petroleum station, and then get them where they need to go.  But if we didn’t refuel quickly then Linka’s taxi would soon break down, which would have been Chernobyl scale disaster.  I exaggerate, but it would have been very embarrassing and upsetting for me, Linka, a professional taxi driver. 

I refueled with haste, not wanting to upset my passengers.  They were very understanding, and did not seem to mind that Linka needed to stop while on a job.  When I returned from transaction, they seemed even happier, with big silly smiles on their faces and many words of kindness for Linka.  I delivered the boys home safely to their mountain home, and they were filled with gratitude.  They still had silly smiles stretched across their faces as they began to pay Linka.  Much of their payment was made in coin- of the golden and silver variety.  I thought it strange that they would carry so much coin without keeping it in a purse- everyone carries their coin in purses back in Omsk.  But being unaware of many customs that this- the greatest country Linka has ever had privilege of living in- has, I thought it best not to suggest to them that they purchase purses for their coins.  They left Linka’s taxi with many words of thanks, for both the ride and song.  It was after they had left that I went to place their payment into my change compartment- located under Linka’s radio.  It was with great horror and much surprise that I found the compartment completely empty!  All of the coins had been smuggled away! And as I sat there scratching my head, I realized what must have happened.  Those nice boys who had enjoyed my singing and smiled those silly smiles were, in fact, not so nice boys.  They had stolen from Linka, who had given them nothing but good times.  They had taken coins from Linka’s compartment, and then paid their fare using Linka’s money! No wonder they didn’t have purses for their coins! 

I was very upset by these events, and I wasn’t sure what I should do.  At first, I thought I should march into their mountain home and give them pieces of my mind.  But, then Linka remembered Linka’s cabbie code number 12: DON’T’ GO LOOKING FOR TROUBLE, BECAUSE YOU WILL PROBABLY FIND IT.  I was angry with those not so nice boys, but it was not so big a deal- no need to go make second cold war out of nothing.  And in these hard times, money is not something that grows on trees and bushes.  Everyone is tightening his or her coin purses, Linka understands this.  Linka also likes to look at positives- the drive was a good time.  There was singing, unexpected disasters, coin heists and mountains.  If nothing else, Linka thought it would make a good story for you, my cyber comrades.  Linka has found out that not everyone is as nice as they seem (except for me, Linka), and that you should always refuel your taxi before driving people to a mountain.