I have found that Sunday mornings are always good for a laugh. One fare is the little old lady off to her church service and the next is a bleary eyed drunk still blinking at the harsh morning light. I pick up all the people that wake up in strange places with a bad head, or somebody else with a worse head.
Funny how all the girls try to justify themselves they tell me even though I don’t ask that "they stopped at a girlfriends house last night". One lady "and I use the word loosely" hailed me early one Sunday morning" Leicester St" she says, but that’s only a hundred feet away I said "So five pounds Leicester St" she replied. I am not going to argue about making easy money so off we go. We get round the corner and there’s the irate hubby waiting on the doorstep hands on hips and obviously very angry, she then makes a big show of handing over the five pounds to make sure he sees it being paid and no change given, must have been making out she had come from much further away, devious eh!.
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