I knew as soon as I clapped eyes on my fare that he was trouble. The clues lay in the litre bottle of vodka in each pocket and the tell-tale "blow-holes"in his cheap fake designer polyester track suit. For those that don't know "blow-holes" are the tiny holes burnt into the clothes of cannabis smokers, they are a dead giveaway(check your local MP for them), that and the sweet sickly smell. He slouched in the front seat and cheekily cranked the radio up and wound his window right down. We hadn't got very far when he spotted a huge ape like chav walking along with his slavering rottweiler. "Slow down it's Wayne" he shouted, thinking he wanted to exchange grunts with his pal I slowed when we got alongside the ape. My fare stuck his head out of the window and then even though he looked as if he couldn't blow the skin of a rice pudding, swore and threatened him with a good kicking. This of course enraged the ape like chav who roared and dashed towards the car, at this the huge dog seemed to scent blood and strained to be let go. Before they got near to the car I set of at speed, with the crazy fare next to me laughing like he was deranged. He was still laughing when we reached the junction a half mile up the road, but it was a Friday afternoon and he hadn't counted on the heavy traffic. With no sign of a gap in the traffic, his laughter subsided and the colour started to drain from his face. He was watching the ape like chav and his now drooling rottweiler getting closer and closer in the mirror. This left me in an awkward position, did I tell him to get out and run, or did I let the Ape chav and his doggy share him for lunch. Either way I would lose out ,if he ran I didn't get paid and if he stayed, well dog hairs are notoriously hard to get off the upholstery especially if they are mixed with blood. The now nervous fare wound his window up and shrunk back in his seat to await his fate. Just as the dogs huge jaws appeared at his window I spotted a small gap in the traffic. A bit too small really but with a screeching of brakes and a blare of horns we were out. My relieved fare offered me a swig of his vodka or to "lay some weed on me" whatever that means but I declined his kind offer. Still a tip would have been nice, but that wasn't forthcoming.