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.