No Room at the Inn

As soon as I lay eyes on my fares that I was picking up from Barrow railway station I knew by their luggage, that they weren't returning holidaymakers. I had a hunch that they both might have been guests of Her Majesty. Both were carrying black bin bags containing all their worldly possessions, and both were covered in badly done tattoos. My hunch was confirmed when they told me that they had just been released from prison that day. Both told a story of being shunted from prison to prison and of time being locked up in various police station cells. "We would be loaded up in the sweatbox(jail slang for prison van) and driven away and not know which end of the country we would end up in." They then told me of the problems this caused them, with missing meals and medication. "I had a drug problem and was rattling (slang for withdrawal symptoms) but got no help." said one. Both were let out early because their simply wasn't any room for them in our overcrowded prisons. They were both over the moon to be released on Christmas Eve and laughed and said they were glad their was" no room at the inn. "