Taxing.

Readers with long memories (or Short Nights of The Glass Dolls) may remember from days gone by the amount of ahem, utter shite we've had to put up with from taxis in the past.

Just search for taxis if you fancy a laugh, I'll still be here when you get back.

Anyway all those transport troubles seemed to be in the past until that is yesterday morning.

Oh joy.

With the girls off to college next week* boy child Cassidy is currently our only child in a taxi, which feels a bit odd but heyho he's getting there.

His escort is great, he knows the other kids onboard and it turns up round about the same time, 8.30 AM, every day.

Because routine and schedules are really important to us Autistic folk.

It's basically rule number one.

Remember this as it may be important later.

Anyway as is Cassidy's routine he gets up at 7.55 Am, potters on his computer for 5 minutes, gets dressed, grabs his music player then sits on his laptop (again) and waits patiently for the taxi to turn up, which as I said is around 8.30 AM.

Perfect.

This week has been a wee bit different as due to unforeseen circumstances his escort has been away, nothing to hectic has happened - true we had to organise (and pay for) a cab Tuesday but a replacement escort and cab was soon put in place, was even asked what time the pick up was.

Which was nice.

Cue 7.55 AM this morning when the doorbell rang.

We assumed it was a parcel or some such treasure and not, as it turned out the escort informing us that the taxi was here to pick Cassidy (who was at that point in his jammies and yawning) up for school.

Ro explained that it was a wee bit early and he was just up as the caring, sharing driver - obviously unable to stay parked for longer than 2 minutes, huffed, puffed and announced he was cancelling the job.

And it has to be said a job he gets paid for no matter what.

Because fuck having any empathy or common sense. 

It has to be said that the escort was lovely, trying her best to accommodate  Cass as Ro rushed to get him ready.

Now comes confession time, you see I was up late finishing a commission that has a quickly approaching deadline so decided this morning to have a lie in only to be rudely awakened by doorbells and frantic chat as Ro chased Cass around the house and an ever more ruddy faced driver slowly reversed back and forth up and down the street.

 

 

An aside now for any Autistic readers.

You know that point where everything starts to get overwhelming loud and bright and you feel like you're about to drowned in and huge emotionally charged meltdown pit?

Yes, that was me at 8.10 AM this morning - ten minutes after getting up and ready to headbutt a door if it would help me focus. 

Ro - being the non-Autistic sensible one manage to get Cassidy out 'tween my swears and shakes and we breathed a sigh of relief thinking the worst of the day was over.

Within 3 minutes the doorbell rang.

It appears that the driver, either distracted by having to actually do his job and not just drive off and pocket the cash had forgotten to lock the doors meaning a really stressed Cass had basically thought "Sod this for a game of soldiers" and legged it out the cab and down the road home - with, I have to add the escort in hot pursuit.

Luckily we live in a quiet cul-de-sac and not a main road.

Meltdowny me is frantically shouting "Just let him stay here and I'll take him on my own!" as the adults in the room tut in a concerned manner and shift from foot to foot in that really uncomfortable way NT folk do.

Suffice to say the cab went without him.

To explain how intense the situation was, this all took place with a 15 minute window.

Yes, I know.

 

 

Calming him - and me - down the school soon phoned to see what had happened and nicely offered to book us a cab, saying to ring them when everyone was calmer which we did.

And waited.

And waited.

After ringing (again) an hour later we were informed that:

A. We hadn't actually rung.

B. We had rung but they'd 'forgot'.

Ah you NT folk with your total lack of being able to store information/lie convincingly.

Take your pick.

Finally 2 1/2 hours after Cass should be going to school a cab turns up and by this point he's a wee bit stressed again, me on the other hand is shaking and close to tears and with that we got in the cab to head to school, explaining to the new - nice - driver the whole sorry situation.

It was then I found out the cab was only going one way, unlike normal when you 'escort' the kids in and you get it home too.

Yes, I was be be left in town without my wallet or any fags.

And I don't even smoke.

A quick call to transport informs me that I'm not allowed a cab home because I'm not an official escort.

Unlike the days when our actual escort is off and I'm needed to take the kids in to make it easier for everyone else obviously.

Luckily NT folk have this thing called 'empathy' (you know that vague notion about caring that we're always told we don't possess) so I explained the situation to them and awaited an answer.

Which was no, you can't have a cab home.

Step forward the driver to save the day.

"Look I'll wait at the school, just get them to authorise the taxi and I'll take you home."

Dear reader I could have kissed him.

But I didn't obviously.

Anyways we arrive at the school with Cassidy a wee bit hyper and me shaking and tearful, I send him off to his (favourite) teacher and head to the office to see if they can ring transport to authorize the cab waiting outside to take me home.

Simple eh?

The least that they can do given the circumstances?

You'd think.

Cue tuts and an exasperated/annoyed "The cab is outside waiting? And who's paying for it?" before being told I'd not just asked for a taxi authorization but for a whole new cab which now needed cancelling.

I'm literally standing in front of a person who is trying to convince me that I didn't actual say what I actually said no more than 3 minutes earlier.

And that after a morning of Autistic meltdowns, abusive drivers and worse organisation skills than a group of pre-schoolers organizing a game of tig that the most important thing is the bloody transport budget and that I should feel somehow guilty for wanting to go home?

And they say we have the social deficit.

 Now I known that a fair few of you reading this are going to be shocked by the whole thing (which is fair enough) but I also know that there'll be a small group desperate to justify the whole incompetence of the situation with cries of/excuses like:

A. Budgets are really tight.

B. They're all under so much pressure.

C. See the big picture.

D. Everyone is trying their best under the circumstances.

And my favourite, when they add: 

E. "But since lockdown..."

to the end of the sentence like it actually matters.

To anyone with this mindset I'd just like to say that doing what's right and behaving like a decent human being actually costs fuck all.

If something is wrong call it out.

And if it makes you feel uncomfortable, congratulations you're now an ally.

And for anyone (brave enough) to say that I've no idea of the pressures folk working in the SEN sector are under I'd just like to add:

I spent nearly 20 years working with - and training staff - to work with 'young people' (gah) from urban aid projects to social work groups via SEN kids. 

In fact I still occasionally work with Autistic groups.

And in my 'proper' job I'm balancing budgets and deadlines on a weekly basis for some really big - and really important - projects.

And not once have I ever used budgets, stress or lack of time/understanding of how hard my job is for not giving 100% and completing the work.

Because to be honest your client (or client group) don't want excuses, they want the job they've hired you to do done.

And done well.

As Autistic people we spend all our time and energy trying to make you feel comfortable around us and desperately trying to fit in with your whole NT society and mindset whereas you seem to wear yourselves out making excuses as to why things are shite.

Now here's a novel idea.

Use that energy to change things instead.

Listen and learn.

Learn about how we feel and how our experiences in situations like this can affect us and try better.

But most of all learn that when it comes to doing the decent things your fucking transport budget is gloriously irrelevant.

*Oh and we're spending today sorting out their taxis as it seems informing social work back in April that we need transport isn't enough time to organise it.