Doorstep Drama

Amongst the usual flotsam and jetsam I picked up early on Sunday morning was a "pickup down the street job."

 This is when the fare for whatever reason doesn't want the taxi stopping outside the actual address that they are at. 

They usually ask for the cab to go to a house a few doors down the street and then walk down to be collected.

 The bedraggled young lass who after having crept out of a house four doors away got into the cab and told me the story. She had been dating her boyfriend for a few months, but still felt too shy to be introduced to his mother, hence the sneaky exit.
We had got a good few miles towards her house when she began rummaging in her bag and cursing. Turns out that she had left her mobile phone behind at the boyfriend’s house, and so it was a quick u-turn, and back to collect it. Unfortunately for her, but hilariously for me when she tapped timidly at the door, it wasn't answered by her boyfriend as she expected. It seems that his mum had decided to get up early to prepare the Sunday lunch.

 The poor lass nearly died of fright when the door was flung open by the huge figure clad in dirty dressing gown, slippers, curlers, smudged mascara and minus the false teeth.

 What made it worse was that the figure still had a huge blood stained carving knife clutched in her hand. I don't know who was the more embarrassed of the two, but it sure was fun to watch.