On my way to work, I was "carved up" on a roundabout in Exeter by a London style Taxi. I noted the number from the "How's my Driving?" sticker on the rear of the vehicle when it stopped at a filling station and telephoned to complain. You can imagine how astonished I was to be put through to a Sex Hot Line number. I was so flabbergasted that I rang the number again in case I had misdialled. I rang the number of the company that owns the taxi to complain to the Proprietor, but he was unavailable, "Skiing in France".