Let's say your destination is a ten minute drive away and it's a sports centre.

You get in, `Alright mate, just the sports centre please.`

He starts driving but about five seconds later slows down, pulls onto the pavement and stops, about twenty metres away from your house:

`Just one-twenty please.`

`?...

`Oh, no it's the sports centre I'm going to mate, sorry.`

He doesn't respond but angrily hits the button to start his meter running again, changes into first, turns back onto the road and then carries on driving in the direction of the sports centre.

About five minutes later you've forgotten about it and you're staring out of the window looking at the few remaining orange leaves on the trees when he does an emergency stop that makes your upper half lunge forward and your feet smack the floor. The seatbelt is locked firmly against your chest. The driver behind beeps loads of times angrily.

`Three pounds please fella.`

`Heheh... can you drop us at the sports centre? It's not that far from here now dunno if you know-`

`Yeah I know but I'm knackered.`

`...`

`Err... alright, I'll just get out here, cheers.`

You undo your seatbelt, fumble with the change in your pocket, give him three pound coins and vacate the taxi. You close the door and zip your coat up. It's raining, so you put your hood up as well. You're looking around trying to work out the best way of getting to the sports centre from where you are when the taxi you were just in wheelspins and accelerates rapidly straight off the end of a pier into the fucking sea.