The Charmer

Early on Sunday morning and one of my first fares was a young lass who looked like she had been fighting for ten rounds in the boxing ring. If you don't ask any questions you don't get any answers. And so I asked "what happened to your face then?" "I got **!!## bottled" was the less than ladylike reply before she loudly burped, filling the cab with the smell of stale beer and last nights kebab. "I got thrown out just cos I bottled the other lass back, but it's OK cos the fat cow ended up in the hospital" She then started describing the vast quantity of booze she had managed to knock back before reaching oblivion and then waking up in some strangers flea pit.

 I was thankful that it was only a short drive between the two much less than respectable houses that she was travelling between. She handed over a crumpled dirty note for the fare with a tattooed grubby hand. What a charmer eh? But when I checked the back seats I found that she had kindly left a snotty tissue, a well chewed wad of gum and a half smoked spliff behind in lieu of a tip.