Thursday, 22 September 2011

It's a Jungle Out There

After Twelve years of night cab driving, I am now into week three of driving in daylight hours and here at 50 degrees and 52 minutes north and zero degrees and thirty four minutes east I now get up at six o'clock in the feckin' morning. For gawds sake what time of day is that?  By the way don't be getting any ideas sending cruise missiles my way. I really must stop giving out my co-ordinates.

I thought I'd seen everything working in the twilight hours for the last twelve years when most of the population of my town are fornicating in private, apart from the dirty little feckers in the dark doorways and the back of my cab that is.  I'm used to looking out for wrong 'un's, I have been beaten, stabbed, kidnapped, spat at, robbed, assaulted verbally and physically, keeping an eye out for a knife, checking to see if they have means to pay, y'now the sort of thing.

Look at them! All dodgy and shifty looking.

I have been shocked at the level of illegal going's on in the day. Old ladies with an agenda, drug baron pensioners, bomb carrying single mums shopping at Morrisons, flick knifed partially sighted elderly men with white canes with hidden swords in them.

I've got my eye on all of them, one of them will make a move soon and I'll be ready.

I saw an octogenarian give me the once over the other day, she smiled at me and asked me if I've had a pleasant day. Sussing out where I keep my money bag I reckon. The single mum with two toddlers, the one with the pram that Ernö Rubik wouldn't have had the brain power to devise building never mind getting the mass of angles and joints to line up to open it, she looked well dodgy, cried because I helped her, reckon she's arms dealing.

Two very old ladies in particular are giving me cause for concern, always travel together and seem to be using going shopping at M&S as a rouse, they're not fooling me one bit. even with their tickles and the apple they gave me. Their bags are always full BEFORE they get to the shops! Hmm? HMM? Drug Mules I tells ya! Drug mules. Sensible twin setted crack whores they are, their teeth are already missing, their arms are already veiny by default, craggy loose skin, pot marked everything eh? EH? Classic crack hoes. I got their number...

I may well go back to night driving, at least morons act openly LIKE morons and whores and addicts let you know they want.

I DID see a shoplifter running out of Morrisons with a large two foot long brick of cheese the other day, that was quite a sober and refreshing site believe me. I sat back and admired the honesty of his simple endeavour to spread cheese around with his mates.  Its these twin setted and cardiganed monsters sitting quietly on the benches outside I don't trust, chatting and talking in whispered polite tones, smiling at each other and helping each other with heavy bags and giving each other pound coins for the trolleys. Hmm? Eh? EH? Bastards.