Saturday, March 31, 2007

No food please.

I’m in the work zone at the moment. Well I have to be don’t I if I want to clear my cab rent debt by Monday? But in my life there’s always something preventing me just working and earning. Be it a birthday that demands that you pay a visit or give an amount of money or a similar special occasion that needs you to attend, there’s always something. It's my Mum's birthday on Sunday, I need that like a hole in the head. Even a rare appearance by your football team live on TV. Tonight my long suffering team, Leeds United, made one of those rare appearances and guess what? We won!! What joy. I had intended to work through the evening and listen to the game on the radio but the need to watch the game was too great and a job from Victoria up to West Hampstead proved too much to resist so I bought a few delights from Tesco in Maida Vale and drove home. I won’t bore you with the details but we played really well and deserved the win, and the much needed three points that came with it.

I went straight back out after the game at 10pm and being a Friday night I had a pair of backsides on the back seat in no time. The second job after that I picked up a couple in Notting Hill. The girl wanted a price for Esher in Surrey and when I quoted £50 to £60 the guy exploded with “Fook off (he was a northerner) we’re not paying that” I think he directed it at her more than me so I never bothered to take offence. They then directed me to Wimbledon Station and started having an argument. She didn’t mind paying the money to go to Esher but he was arguing that they had their return tickets for the train and there was no way he was paying again. “But you’re not going to pay it, I am” she said to him. “Bollocks, you’re not paying it we’re getting the train” he replied. Charming way to speak to your partner, I thought. This rumbled on for a while longer and then died down and they got to talking about other things. We were now in Putney heading up the Hill towards the roundabout and a sign indicating various destinations came in to view. He spotted that one of the exits off the roundabout was the A3 which coincidentally went towards Esher. So he pipes up with: “Fook it mate, take the A3, lets go straight to Esher, I can’t be bothered to fook about with the train” then she pipes up with “you bastard, after having a go at me for wanting to do that in the first place then you do it any way…..” I couldn’t help having a little chuckle to myself at the comedy of it all. I was also relieved to be doing a decent paying job which would go some way towards getting me out of the shit I’m in.

I came all the way back from Esher jobless and stopped at the Shell garage in Putney to put yet another £30 worth of diesel in the tank. Whilst at the window paying another couple asked if I would drive them to Wimbledon via somewhere where they could get “something greasy” to eat. The only places open at that time are Kebab shops and I knew of one on the other side of Wimbledon town centre so I took them there. They wanted me to wait for them and take them home but I said I didn’t want the smell of the food to taint the inside of the cab so they paid me at the Kebab shop. I actually hate the smell of other people’s food in my cab but I don’t mind my own.

After a few more jobs in the Kings Road area and one up to North Kensington I ended up back at Notting Hill Gate and was flagged by another man holding a box containing food which no doubt he would want to eat in the cab. “Muswell Hill please driver” says this well dressed male. “Do you mind if I eat my food on the way I’ll be extra carefull”. Dilema. Do I say no and lose a much needed £30 ride or take a deep breath and say yes?
I drove with both my windows down, boy was I cold.

Friday, March 30, 2007

Plodding On

We won the darts 12 – 2. I had a good game and checked out one particular game with a bullseye. It’s generally a good night out where I can unwind and forget about cab driving for the evening, have a few shandies and a bit of banter with the rest of the team.

Tuesday started with a bit of lunch with one of my cabby mates. We met down the Royal Oak Taxi Centre and were surprised to find that our old mate Johnny Anderson had recently taken the place over. Whilst talking to John I said I went there quite often and he said he hadn’t seen me there since he’s been the owner. I said I’d been there one day last week when there were “two tasty sorts behind the counter” and was going to add more when he said “yeh, those are my daughters” “Ooops! Sorry John” I added quickly. I then described how I’d lost a tenner in the change machine and his daughters had reimbursed me and he remembered the incident. Anyhow, we had a good meal down there and found the menu greatly improved. For all you Pie and Mash loving cabbies out there he gets the proper pies in complete with liquor every Thursday.

Once fed and watered I went straight to work. The first few jobs kept me in the St John’s Wood area and after four local jobs I got one over to York Way and from then on the work was steady most of the shift. As I knew I’d be out most of the day I decided to put £30 of diesel in the tank. There’s nothing worse than being on a quarter tank or less and then getting a nice long job somewhere. I should really fill up every day but I never do.

One job took me to the Royal Geographical Society. Whilst talking to the passengers to find out what goes on in there they said that explorers and travelers hold seminars in there to talk about their journeys. I thought it would be great to attend one especially if the explorer was someone like Sir Ranulph Feinnes although I would imagine his seminar days are way behind him now.

As the day became night the condition of some passengers changed. One guy I picked up in Queensway asked for Chelsea football ground. By the time I’d made a couple of turns he was spark out with his head to one side. Fifteen minutes later as I pulled up at the destination he was completely out of it. “Hello?” I shouted through the partition. No answer. “HELLO?” “WE’RE HERE” No answer. I hate these kind of fares. “HELLO….OI MATE WE’RE HERE” A slight flicker of something in his eyes. “Hello?” one last time, then…. “Hello” from him and after a few more words from me to maintain the initiative he finally hauls himself upright and realizes what he’s got to do next which is pay me £10.40. Out comes the £20 note, I can’t be arsed to give him all my change so I round it down to £10 and off he goes.

Wednesday started with lunch with my brother in law at the Plaza in Oxford Street. They have five or six food outlets in there and I opted for KFC because I wanted to try the new Honey BBQ Bites. I wasn’t too impressed with them but the Fully Loaded Meal I also had satisfied my appetite.

My first job was an elderly lady standing on Prince Albert Road on the North side of Regents Park. She wanted to go to the Theatre Royal Haymarket. She asked me to go through the park. Is there any other way to go? I hate it when passengers state the obvious or when they ask you for a destination, you just drive away because you know it and then they start directing you after you’ve almost completed the journey. Sometimes I say nothing other times I let them know I don’t need directions. Anyhow, we’ve driven through the park and are know south bound on Portland Place. Half way down she says “Can we go back to where you picked me up?” “OK” says me U-turning. Not an unusual request, people change their minds all the time. “and can you go round the left side of the park this time and not the long way as you did before” (Hackles rising but I say nothing). I enter the park by Park Square West and by the time I reach York gate she’s changed her mind again. “Look, just go back to Haymarket and take Marylebone High Street will you” She was in danger of getting thrown out at this point. Why some people think they can talk down to you never ceases to amaze me. But again I say nothing and carry on. She’s obviously got something troubling her because she keeps tutting and wincing. The traffic was completely solid all the way there and I was half expecting her to change her mind again but she never did. The final approaches to Haymarket were a complete joke and the sound effects continued in the back of the cab. We eventually got there, she paid me and then walked off saying something under her breath. “And bollocks to you and all” I shouted causing hers and a few other heads to turn. I can do rude when it’s called for.

Funny enough a few jobs later I had a much younger version of the same with someone else treating me like something stuck to the bottom of their shoe but I never bit this time and she probably walked away from the cab feeling superior.

Time for a break or “nosebag” as we call it. I hadn’t been to Kolossi in Paddington for a while mainly because it’s difficult to park round there but I managed to get a spot outside the place and went in for one of their fanatastic kebabs and a natter with the owner.

I had a couple of nice £20+ rides after that and the final ride of the night started in Tooley Street and went to Waterloo and onto North Finchley.

Todays shift saw me start at the Royal Oak for breakfast and then work through until 23.30. I should have worked for a few more hours but I suddenly decided I’d had enough. I’m still well short on the cab rent and it looks like I’ll have to pay them on Monday when £800 will be due. I’ve never let it get to that amount and I’m sure the garage won’t be too happy about it but if I ain’t got it I ain’t got it. Friday, Saturday and Sunday are always good earning days so I should be sweet by Monday.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Back to nights

Back on a late one tonight and the difference in the time taken to earn and the manner in which it can be earned is so different to days, one tends to forget.

I started around six thirty this evening after a nice barbeque dinner with the kids. Having been on days for the last few weeks it was a bit of a wrench going out at all but as you may all be aware by now this is the third week and the third time in recent months that my cab rent times three is due. Yes six hundred smackaroos now have to be earned by about Thursday at the latest. Why do I do this to myself?

So after doing my first job from Paddington Station to Victoria Station I flew round to the rank and only had to wait a few minutes before a couple of well built African ladies approached me and asked to be taken out to Hackney. They had 2 enormous suitcases each plus other smaller bags and after getting it all into the cab I was completely fucked and out of breath. The journey there was uneventful apart from the sweat that started issuing from me due to the recent exertions with the freight. As we turned off Mare Street they directed me into a housing estate. The entrance was blocked by about six kids playing football and they seemed reluctant to step aside to let me through. Once through I stopped soon after and started to remove the cases. They seemed even heavier now. The kids seemed to take an interest and decided to surround the cab. I went back round to my side and removed my keys and locked my driver’s door then continued to remove more luggage. One of the ladies paid me and I got back into the cab. The kids were kicking the ball around right next to where I had to exit the estate. I once got cornered by a load of kids in a similar estate and I decided to drive through them. I did the same here and they all soon jumped out of the way and as I drove away the language coming out of their mouths would’ve made a navvy blush.

After a few more jobs in quick succession I found myself at the light at Hall Road and Maida Vale. Three people flagged me from one side of the road and an elderly gentleman was making his way over to me from the other side. I remained motionless and gave no indication that I’d seen either of the parties, something I often do so as not to give one or the other hope. The elderly gentleman got to me first and the three who didn’t looked at me as if I should say that they had flagged me down and it was their cab. The old boy turned out to be a nice trip down to The Millennium Gloucester Hotel.

A few more jobs came and went and I ended up on the Hilton rank on Park Lane. The doorman waved me over and opened the door for a young couple who, he said, were going to Charing Cross Station. The female’s first spoken words to her partner were:
“Don’t fuckin start alright; I’ve just about had enough of your crap tonight”
Charming thought I. They spent the whole of the ten minute trip hurling insults at each other. From what I could gather, the extremely pretty female had been attracting attention from admirers all evening and the boyfriend was just a little pissed off about it.

From Charing Cross I got a job up to Clerkenwell and then made my way round to the Kings Cross rank. The feeder section of the rank is next to St Pancras Station but that station has its own rank which only had one cab on it due to the fact that it’s not as busy as the Kings Cross rank. A burst of people came out of St Pancras and all you could hear was about ten cabs start their engines on the other rank and scoot over to the other rank cutting eachother up in the process. It was like feeding time at the zoo. Guess who got there first. Yup! I did and snagged a job down to London Bridge Station. A very talkative Staffordshire man who was a bit of a know-it-all. I duly humored him and received a good tip for my efforts.

There’s still eight more jobs to come before I call it a night, but of course I don’t know that yet. The London Bridge rank was chokka so I drove over to Waterloo and had a look at the Eurostar. It looked like I had just missed the work as the entrance hall was empty and the last cab’s tail lights were disappearing into the distance but I thought I’d plot up in case of any stragglers and also to select a better configuration on my iPod which, by the way, has to be the best invention since sliced bread. I did get a straggler but it was only over the Waterloo Bridge to the Strand Palace Hotel.

I stopped for a bite to eat at BK in Praed Street and whilst I was munching into a Whopper with cheese a guy poked his head into my half open window and asked if I was available. Before I could answer he said “You’re ‘avin Macky D’s that’s what you’re doin’ aintcha?” I said “Burger King actually but where d’you want to go” He and his pals wanted to go to Fabric, a night club in Smithfield, but I’d passed it a few hours earlier and it looked closed so I told him so. He then asked me to take him somewhere where they could get pills but I told him I didn’t know anywhere like that. Sunday is always a bad day for clubbing but I took them to Oxford Street where they decided to walk towards Soho in search of illegal substances and a good night out.

The last job worth mentioning was from Paddington to the Travelodge in Covent Garden. This lady had been caught up in some sort of delay on the train from Devon to London and it had added four hours to her journey time. She was livid with anger as she had had an evening out planned and it was now in ruins. She was telling me how she hated traveling by train but had no other choice as she had lost her licence when caught driving drunk last year. She only got banned for a year which I thought strange as a few drink drivers I know got three year bans.

So after a few weeks of ten to twelve hour shifts it was nice to earn my money in half that time and also to have something to write about due to the type of passengers picked up.
I may well have to do an early tomorrow as I play darts at my local social club on Monday nights but hope to resume evening/night work from Tuesday.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Touched or what?

I’ve been working during the day these last few weeks and by the time I’m finished on the road and get home and do all the other stuff I have to do I’ve got nothing left in the tank to blog, watch tv or anything except fall in to bed and sleep.

Since I bought my iPod I have managed to load almost 2500 songs onto it. The cassette adapter that I bought works great but it took me a while to fathom out that you have to have the iPod volume on about 70% to stop it distorting on the car stereo. Since I discovered Sugarland did a few songs with Bon Jovi I have gotten right into them and their two albums are the most played music on the iPod.

The day time traffic has been pretty bad this last week and I find my stress levels are much higher as people are very impatient and expect there to be a short cut for every eventuality. I told several passengers that if they weren’t happy being stuck in traffic that they could always get out and walk. One stroppy git took me up on that but thought I meant he didn’t have to pay the £6 on the meter. It almost came to blows but he backed down. Wise move.
One thing about days is that you can eat whatever you want as everythings open. I went to Alexanders Fish and Chip shop behind Finsbury Square yesterday and had a beef and mushroom pastie and chips with a sausage thrown in for good measure. It's hard to explain the difference between this chippy and the countless others around town. Try it for yourself. You won't be disappointed. I met with two of my cabbie mates today for breakfast. We went to Rocco's cafe in Thayer Street and had a full English breakfast. I had an Eccles cake as a dessert but it was a bit rank so I lobbed it.

As I was driving down Earls Court Road earlier today, or should I say crawling, I was hailed by a lady who looked “touched”. Being a watcher of people I can more often than not tell the type of person I’m stopping for. This lady looked troubled and part of me was saying drive off. So the other part of me decided to pick her up, possibly a mistake possibly not. She asked for Cheyne Place in Royal Hospital Road. The obvious route to her destination was blocked with traffic so using my initiative I went to take Old Brompton Road. “Where are you going?” she screamed (I knew she was a nutter). Explaining that the route would be heavy going and that I should go another way she said we should stay on the heavy going route. Fine thought I, it’s her money. A few minutes later I hear wimpering coming from the back. “Oh why is it taking so long?” she was half wimpering half crying. “Didn’t I tell you it would be busy this way?” I told her looking through the rear-view mirror. “What’s the matter anyway, why are you crying?” I added. “I’m distressed” came her reply. “Distressed about what?” said I. “I’m ill” and then the floodgates opened and she started sobbing and wailing uncontrollably. I had seen this coming for a few minutes now so I wasn’t surprised in the least. There was nothing I could do but go with the flow of the traffic but I wanted her out of the cab asap. She quietened down a bit but was muttering to herself. I heard her say, in between deep breaths, “We’re nearly there, we’re nearly there”. Then after a ten second burst of speed we caught the lights at Battersea Bridge and she went doolaly again. “Oh my God I can’t stand this, I think I’m going to die” Now, it could have gone bad for her here as I was ready to throw her out. She was getting me all on edge with her hysterics. As we were literally 2 or 3 minutes from her home I decided to grin and bear it and humour her. “Don’t worry my darlin’ you’ll soon be home with a nice cuppa and your feet up” This seemed to calm her and within a few minutes we were outside her house with the meter reading £8.40. Cue the final scene. She’s got four pound coins and a serious amount of shrapnel that amounts at best to another £1.50. She starts getting into a panic about it and I tell her to just give me the four pounds and forget the rest. She insists I should take the shrapnel and whilst attempting to pass it through the partition drops it everywhere and promptly collapses in tears again. “It’s OK luv don’t worry about the rest of the money” says me. Next she asks my name. “My name’s Charlie” I answer. “Oh Charlie I’m so sorry about all this. I live at Flat 1, come round later or tomorrow and I’ll give you the rest of the money”. “Look, forget the money, get yourself indoors before you have a nervous breakdown” I’d had enough by now and there was three people watching waiting for her to get out so they could take the cab. She finally walked toward her front door and a very stressful ride came to an end. The three passengers that got in started picking up all the money that had dropped on the floor and handed it over to me. I always keep coppers separate from the other money so it went straight into the copper bag I have in the arm rest. She obviously had emotional issues so I was quite pleased that I never treated her the same as I would a drunk at night.

As this week draws to an end I look forward to a lie-in on Saturday morning as I don’t have to take my daughter to school.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Hablas Español?

My “Supermechanic” brother in law recently took delivery of his brand new TX4. He brought it round so that I could take it for a spin and I was very impressed with the power in the new engine. It’s also supposed to have the best suspension these cabs have ever had but I felt that after a few weeks or months of driving over our pot-hole-ridden roads it would end up as shagged as all the other cabs out there. I hope I’m proved wrong. I think I’ll just content myself with renting for the moment and who knows I may try being an owner again in a few years.

I took my cab to the garage on Friday as the rent was due (times three). It broke my heart parting with six hundred quid but that’s my fault for letting it build up to that amount. While I was there I got them to change a few bulbs that had blown in the dashboard. The mechanic tried to fob me off because it was a “dashboard out” job but a quiet word with the owner, who was lurking around keeping the troops in order, soon changed the mechanic’s way of thinking. I have been driving around without a dash display for the last few weeks and have been unable to read the speedo. I got double flashed the other night by yet another speed camera and if they bothered to put any film in them, I, and probably many other drivers, would have received driving bans by now.

I was all set for a quiet Saturday evening in when my mate rang me to see if I wanted to buy an 80gig iPod. All my kids have them and I have recently been getting the urge to own one so I agreed to buy it and went straight out to work to earn the required money. I intend to put as many of my CD’s onto the iPod and play it through the tape deck in the cab with one of those fake tape thingys you plug into the headphone socket.

I was 1st cab on the rank at Waterloo tonight when a pair of people walked up to the window with a bit of paper.
Lady: Hablas Español ? (Do you speak Spanish?)
Me: Si (Yes)
Lady: O fantastico. Ahora nos podemos entender sin nadie poniendose nerviosos. (Oh that’s fantastic. Now we can understand eachother without anyone getting nervous)
Me: Yo nunca me pongo nervioso. (I never get nervous)
Lady: It’s a figure of speech my dear. (this was said in Spanish but I can’t remember the words she used).
So, my passengers were Spanish and classed me as one of their own. I had to give them my full life story (leaving out the gory bits), I had to listen to theirs (only mildly interesting) and I also had to give them the guided tour of anything interesting en route to their budget hotel in Bayswater. As expected, after exhausting my vast knowledge of all the places of interest we passed on the way, (London Eye, Big Ben, The Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Marble Arch etc) I got sweet FA tipwise but a “come visit us next time you’re in Spain” and a business card with their address and phone number.

It was a pleasant evening all the same and and I made some good money.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Sorry Wil

So it’s my fault that Wil at Paradise Driver is losing precious sleeping time because he is now hooked on What can I say? It’s a great site and beats paying for entire series on DVD that you may only watch once or twice at best. I, on the other hand have learned how to control my urges and only watch a few episodes a night as it was getting ridiculous. Enjoy Wil!

I had a fantastic day at work today. I started at 3pm worked until 7.30pm came home and resumed at 9pm. Considering it was a Wednesday and there was no rain there were lots of people out and about. Waiting times on all the major ranks was minimal and all the trouble makers must have been at home watching Arsenal get knocked out of Europe. My son, being a Spurs fan was delighted. When I tried to tell him he should support all British clubs in Europe, including Spurs’ arch enemies, he wouldn’t hear of it.

I was on the point at Victoria tonight when a very attractive Asian lady walked up to my window. She was being shadowed by two dodgy-looking henchmen who kept a discreet distance. As bold as you like she said to me “I’d like to go to Bradford please”. I said “Bradford what? Street, place, road?” “No” she answered “Bradford in Yorkshire”. I thought that’s what she meant. So I said to her “You know that’s at least a four hour drive and a £350 fare?” I only guesstimated the fare but I’m sure if I checked the price list in my cabbies diary it would be something ridiculous like £450 to £500. Any way, she looked prepared to pay the asking price but after taking another look at the two guys who would surely be getting in with her I decided to pass. “Sorry luv I’m almost done for the night. Ask down the line and I’m sure someone will bite your hand off for a ride like that” I seriously doubted that anyone would drive her to “God’s own country” but there was no harm in asking. It would have been a lovely job but all the factors would have had to add up before I accepted it such as the money up front and no dodgy looking companions for starters.

So after almost landing the job of my career I had to settle for “bread and butter” work in and around our fair city.

I was actually on my way home around 1am when a guy walked over to where I was waiting at the light on Marylebone Road and asked if I’d take him out to Harrow. He looked a bit the worse for wear but as I’d already taken my money for the night I didn’t give a shit if he did a runner. It turned out, as it often does when you try and figure someone out in the few seconds you have, that I had him all wrong and that he was a thoroughly nice bloke. He was a season ticket holder at QPR and we had a deep discussion about the plight of our respective football teams. I told him that I was at the Leeds v QPR game a few weeks ago and it turns out that we were probably sitting about 10 feet apart only separated by a segregation wall. Small world.

To cap off a great night I have just checked my bank balance online and discovered that BT (British Telecom) have reimbursed me £160 of credit that had been building up in my telephone account.

Happy days, well for today anyway.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Frankie & Johnny

I made an effort to watch the Lunar Eclipse yesterday in the hope that something mystical or even magical would happen to me because of it. Nothing happened tonight but there’s always tomorrow or the rest of my life.

Posting has become a problem for me lately. I sit down to type and end up watching an episode or three of Csi. Well I did say in the last post that the website I was using to watch all these programs was gonna ruin me…and to an extent it’s doing just that.

I have been taking notes though and have selected a few to turn into a half decent post.

I picked up a Frank and a John the other night. I didn’t know their names at the time but by the end of the trip they had mentioned their names about a hundred times each and that’s no exaggeration. They were both rat-arsed drunk and contrary to my better judgment I pulled over for them when they flagged me in Prince Albert Road along the top of Regents Park. They asked to be taken to London Bridge Railway Station and settled down for the ride. After a few minutes of chatting to eachother I ascertained that John was the more sensible one of the two and that Frank was a complete arsehole. Frank started becoming unwell and I had visions of him puking up all over the upholstery. John was cajoling him and keeping his mind off his unwellness. Then Frank decided to start on the driver…me. “Oi mate where the fuck are you taking us?” I had sort of been expecting something to be directed towards me but when it happened I was surprised by my reaction. I turned to John and said “Tell you’re mate to shut the fuck up otherwise he’s on the pavement”. John told me to take no notice of Frank as he was pissed. Frank must have gathered, through his drunkenness, that I was not in the mood for any of his bullshit because he started criticizing the route to John.

Frank: Ere John, he’s taking us the long way round.

John: No he’s not Frank you just sit back and relax.

Frank: But he is mate, he’s going well out of the way.

John: No he ain’t Frank just shut up otherwise he’s gonna chuck us out of the cab.

Frank: Yeh but John this is the long way round.

John: It’s not Frank.

And I’m not kidding you but for the next fifteen minutes that how their conversation went. We have a saying in Britain when someone is really testing your patience. We say “He’s getting on my tits” and he was well and truly getting on my tits. But as John was doing a grand job of keeping him in some sort of order I decided to grin and bear it and kop the money at the other end. When we arrived at London Bridge Frank got out first and ran into the station whilst John paid me off and apologised profusely for his arsehole mate. I told john that he had his hands full with that one, pointing towards Frank, and bade him a goodnight.

Another interesting fare that hailed me sometime last week was a Filipino looking lady outside Peter Jones in Sloane Square who had an enormous cardboard box that she wanted to get into the cab. I jumped out to help her get the box in and was surprised to find that it was empty. We got the box in and she squeezed in between the box and the seat and asked me to take her to a posh address elsewhere in Chelsea, I think it was Carlyle Square. I couldn’t see into the back at all as the box filled every bit of the back. I was dying to know why she needed such a big box. I spoke to her through the box and asked her what it was for. She said that she was an au pair for a rich family and that the little girl she was caring for wanted a dolls house but her parents wouldn’t let her have one so my passenger was going to make her one out of cardboard and paint it up real nice and buy or make bits of furniture for it. When I asked what the parents would do when they saw it she said that she would keep it in her room and say it was hers and let the little kid play with it. I thought to myself how could people be so mean to their kids?
When we arrived I told her not to worry about the fare and to buy the first piece of furniture for the dolls house on me.

It’s been raining constantly over the last few days so there has been plenty of work on the streets. I went out twice today and it was busy busy busy both times. Only one incident of note to write about. I picked up a lady and a dog from Waterloo Station and took them down to Camberwell. All the way there the woman was snogging the dog. The dog was very excitable and kept jumping up and down and licking her face and I caught her through the mirror offering her tongue for the dog to lick, which it did. The dirty bitch. The woman, not the dog.