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Female-only taxis are best bet to ensuring all women's safety
BE PREPARED' is the motto of the original Waggs. Forget those tawdry chip-and-cheese-eating abominants moulded not from sugar and spice and all things nice, but from acrylic nails, nylon hair extensions and the reeking scent of perma-tan. I'm referring to the World Association of Girl Guides, whose Scottish branch has this week made the sensible appeal that all of our major cities offer female-only taxi ranks.
Research by Girl Guiding Scotland has shown that girls under 18 years are intimidated by having to mix with rowdy, drunken males while making their way home. The group is now discussing with both police and city councils the idea of introducing specific points, monitored by staff, where girls under the age of 18 can queue together. Aware of the antagonism that might be caused by the perception of queue-jumping, the group has suggested that these ranks be kept in separate areas.
As Margaret Winter, Girl Guiding Scotland's county commissioner for Edinburgh, explained: "Girls feel that if there was a separate queue where they would get priority if they were under 18 by showing their ID, then that would make them feel safer when they are out late at night."
While I support the idea, intimidation and leering do not always end when the taxi door slams shut; on many occasions it is just about to begin with the words: "Where to, love?"
Am I alone in dreading the enforced bonhomie of the taxi ride home? If the Girl Guides' motto is "be prepared", then I'm seriously considering making mine: "Always wear heels, preferably sharpened and cyanide-tipped". It is a depressing testament to the few disturbed taxi-drivers I've encountered that I now dream of the right to bear arms.
First there was the seemingly nice guy who dropped me off at a job interview who then – sharp intake of breath – called me at home late at night to inquire how it went and would I like to go out for a drink sometime? I politely declined.
Then there was the terrifying ned who insisted on explicitly complimenting me on my figure as I clambered into the cab, then spent ten minutes phoning his friend giving him a blow-by-blow account of my body, while I sat petrified, desperate to get to safety. Of course, I had the option to report both drivers to their companies, but as they both knew where I lived I was too scared to kick up the fuss.
Perhaps the most disturbing experience happened a few weeks ago when I hailed a cab, climbed in, gave my home address, only to be met with complete and utter silence. He drove off and after a minute or two I reiterated my address. Again silence.
After five minutes, I was desperate to make some kind of verbal contact and suggested the best route. Again silence. I honestly thought I was being driven to my death and so called my husband and kept him on the phone with idle chit-chat, only revealing my deep concerns after I'd stepped out and paid off my silent captor.
So what is the answer to keeping women safe on and off the streets? In my opinion, a rise in the number of female cabbies, or even the creation of female-only taxi firms, which are proving popular in London and the north of England.
Creators of these companies often find it hard to circumvent the sex discrimination act, but there have to be louder calls to common sense and women's safety. Most women will appreciate the sense of relief that comes from stepping alone into a taxi to be greeted with a high-pitched tone and a whiff of perfume, where the phrase, "How was your night?" does not come with a hint of menace.
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