The Taxi Theory?!

That's an interesting theory.

Maybe there is more to taxis than I initially thought.

Still convinced it was right to let my taxi driver go though
-but maybe I should have tried even harder to lock the door on the one that got away...

Richie's Baby Brother

Yesterday we drove down south for the annual yearling auction. It took place at what has to be the country's nicest stud. They have four thoroughbred stallions standing there and a number of mares. I had never been there before, but it certainly lived up to the expectations.

We also got to see one of Richie's siblings, a colt that was up for sale. Although by a different stallion to Rich, he was kind of similar. He was going through a growing stage though so looked very teenager like. It is strange to think about that he is actually the same age as Romantico - but will be broken in over Christmas and racing next summer. Romantico on the other hand can look forwards to another year as a careless youngster.


In the end little Merci didn't attract any bids that were high enough, so the breeders ended up 'buying' him back. Which I though was kind of nice because they're really nice people and then we'll be able to follow him closely in the future.

He wasn't going through the most fortunate growing stage bless him...

I certainly wouldn't mind a house like that...

Quite a few of the usual racing crowd had made the trip

Back in Business

I'll admit that a part of me would prefer Richard to never jump race again. I know it's silly, but in the days after the fall that scene where he falls kept replaying in my head - and it wasn't particularly pleasant.

The more realistic side of me knows that this is what he is good at so this is what he should do. Besides it is not my decision anyway. So I decided to tag along and watch when they tried him over fences again last week.

And it went well. We put Rene on, and as expected he rode him brilliantly. He got after him when he hesitated at first and sat completely still when Richie found his rhytm and jumped in usual style. So that was all good.

We'd been a bit worried he'd had his confidence knocked from the fall, but it certainly wasn't more than he could cope with. It was also crucial to have someone like Rene on to help him out when he hesitated.

Still not looking forward to the race on Sunday though. But I will be there - although I don't know whether I'll dare actually watch...

Test: How to determine whether you are over the ex...

Discover one picture of him with another woman on facebook. Then measure the intensity of the instant naseau caused by the discovery.

Result: So not over it.

Sex and a taxi?!

"Hi, it's Malic. Do you remember me?"

"Eh, no.... (long silence) I'm a bit lost here I'm afraid"

"Your friend gave my brother your phone number that time..."

"Oh, you're the ice cream taxi driver! Hi..."

Yes, this calls for a bit of an explanation I know... So here we go. The first night I was really out drinking post the big break up the following took place:

After a few too many glasses of champagne I ended up getting a bit intimate with a friend of a friend in a bar down town. Nice enough. But due to an almost total absence of alcohol in the previous five months I felt totally shattered by about one o'clock and went to get my stuff to go home. My snog decided to walk me out, which I found quite touching until I realised he was mistakenly under the impression that he would be walking the whole distance with me so to speak. End of story was that he went back in the club (no doubt to find someone who wouldn't waste his time) whilst I got in a taxi to get home. Malic's taxi.

Malic was a rather good looking, charming taxi driver who was probably in his mid-twenties. Slightly surprised by the nights event's -yes I had clearly been out of the game for a bit too long to not even see it coming - I unleashed all my frustrations on Malic. From the fact that it was exactly 5 months since I was dumped, that I could not understand why I had been dumped, that the guy I had offended on the sidewalk next to his taxi was the first guy I had kissed since, how that freaked me out so much I had tried to call my ex from the bathroom, how I still loved him although he would now of course love me even less if possible after having to fend off drunken midnight calls from me, how ironic it was that it was actually Women's Day and how I could not understand how that guy thought he was coming home with me just like that.

And Malic listened. Told me I was wonderful. Said that men were bastards. And that my ex must be mad. He said all the right things, like a taxi driver should do. And then he did something more. Something I don't think taxi drivers normally do. He stopped and bought me ice cream. That night Malic restored my belief in men. With a chocolate ice cream.

But the story didn't end there. Three months - and for the record one date with my snog (who clearly wasn't that easily offended after all) - later I found myself in a taxi in a semi-drunken state once again. This time accompanied by Kris and Thomas. As the driver made his way through town I for some reason decided to tell the story of my favourite taxi driver. As the story unleashed he turned around and asked "What was his name?"

"No idea, but he was rather good looking though," I said with a smile.

"Sounds like my brother," said the driver and picked up his phone.

A few Pakistani sentences later we suddenly had Malic on the loudspeaker in the car.

"Yes, are you the girl I bought a chocolate ice cream for at the petrol station?"

Oh, yes I was.

When the hysterical laughter that followed had calmed down a little bit and we were nearly at our chosen bar for the night Kris decided to take matters into his own hands. So he gave the brother my phone number and said I needed a date. Wonderful.

And today Malic called me to ask if I wanted to have another ice cream with him. How very Sex and the City. Except the girls there never dated taxi drivers as far as I can recall. Nothing against taxi driver in general, or this one in particular, but that's just not quite how I expected it to be.