SAINT Valentine’s Day. Just another day in the life of a taxi driver?

Not really. Every February 14 we see Glasgow at its romantic best (or not so best).

Things a Glasgow Taxi driver will likely see on this date:

1. Couples happily heading out for a romantic meal.

2. Couples arguing on the way home after the romantic meal.

3. Men hurriedly buying gifts after work and wrapping them in the back of a taxi on their way to meet their partners (Roses are red, taxis are black, buy a quick present and jump in the back!).

This year was no different, all of the above applied – and more.

But joking aside, Glasgow is definitely a romantic city with some of the best patter on the planet.

We really do hear some of the funniest things when couples of all ages travel with us.

Some might even have had their first kiss in the back of a cab (get a room, folks!).

Occasionally we are even an agony aunt or uncle for our passengers.

READ MORE: Glasgow Taxis: Can you fit one more in please driver? Eh, naw

Which reminds me of one of my most memorable hires, one which was very much in the name of love.

I was booked to collect a customer in a Glasgow suburb and take him to the airport.

As it happened, he was a reasonably famous musician – in his late 40s or early 50s – however I’ll protect his anonymity …

I arrived to pick him up and was waiting a short while before this man emerged from his front door, clearly flustered.

And then almost immediately went back inside.

Then out again, like a bloody hokey cokey was taking place in front of my eyes!

He caught my eye and then came over to talk to me.

I asked if he was ready to go and he said something we don’t often hear: “I don’t know!”

“What’s the problem, can I help?” I asked him, out of both politeness and curiosity.

And that was all the encouragement he needed, as he spilled his heart out to me …

“Well, the thing is, I have a huge dilemma. I’m due to get on a flight to go and reunite with a woman I’ve only known a couple of weeks. She already wants me to move in with her, which means leaving Glasgow for good.”

I could see the poor guy really was torn.

He continued: “I have a home here, I love the city, all my friends are here, I just don’t know what to do, it’s such a big move.”

The irony that the sliding doors on the side of my taxi had opened wasn’t lost on me – this really was a sliding doors moment.

I asked him: “Ok, what’s to gain, tell me about the woman?”

He immediately replied: “Well she’s French, lives on a vineyard, is 28-years-old.”

“GET IN THE TAXI!!!” I said, and we were off!

He nodded, smiled and he was on his way. He thanked me at the end, said he was now sure he had to give it a go – I wished him all the best.

I often wonder what became of them, and if he ever confessed to her that he was in so much doubt.

I dropped him at the airport but I’d have driven him all the way to France to be honest!