Bust Boosters

I was talking to a lady the other day and she was saying that she was beginning to suspect that she had been ripped off. It seems she had sent for a course of pills that would firm and enlarge her already more than generous boobs.
 This she told me had cost her over a hundred pounds for a three month course, but reading the ingredients it seems they contain nothing more than herbal extracts.
 Even more of a give away was that when she checked on the internerwebs nobody had a good word to say about these so called miracle boob pills.  So she had decided that as she had already paid for them that she should take the three month course and see what developed. 
But I laughingly pointed out to her” what if they do work ,but only on one boob at a time” you may be left with one going north and the other heading south never mind one larger than the other”.
” Well I would send for some more then” she said, maybe I said but that may be the catch they will probably charge ten times as much for the second course of bust boosters.

Breastschool

I took a lady to the local train station today, she told me she was off to Preston on a university course. 
I asked what she was studying and her reply was “breastfeeding” I was amazed to hear this and thought she was pulling my leg.
 But no she assured me that she was a midwife and that she was on a twelve week course all about breastfeeding. She did assure me that it would be just theory with no practical work involved.

Bucket

A lady I pick up now and again bears a remarkable resemblance to the TV personality Hyacinth Bucket both in character as well as looks. The first few occasions she went to great pains to tell that me “oh of course I am not from round this dump” and that the “yokels are a lot of dirty rabble not fit to walk Barrows filthy streets”.
 This went on for a month or two until one day she come out of her house with her husband close behind her. Poor devil I thought pity him he must have a dogs life. He got in the front and his wife in the back and I waited for the usual haughty remarks,” have you got everything” she said to him. I looked at him expecting to see a poor downtrodden sort of guy who daren't answer back. He looked back at me winked and smiled then said to her “as always darling”. 
When she answered I was shocked by the change in her voice and tone she sounded ten years younger and spoke to him with a permanent smile on her face. So she was human after all, I looked at her in a different light after that.

Sex Talk

How many other people can say that a perfect stranger has got into their car and within five minutes ends up talking explicitly about sex? 
This happened to me on a dull wet morning recently,the passenger was a perfectly respectable middle aged lady who some how got on to the subject of how young people are too open about sex and that people of her generation just don’t talk about it.
But she then went on to mention prostitutes, transsexuals, gays and extra marital affairs, all within a short ten minute journey. I don't suppose she would do the same with a bus driver or a shopkeeper but with us cabdrivers it seems anything goes.
I used to find it strange but nowadays nothing surprises me eh!

Dumbphones

When someone seems to be talking to me from the seat directly behind nowadays, I have learnt not to answer straight away. 
This is after a couple of embarrassing incidents when I have answered them only to realise that they were actually talking to someone on their mobile phones and not actually to me. 
This mainly happens when they have the phone set to silent or vibrate mode and they then get a call, or they suddenly decide they desperately need to call someone right away and it cant wait a few minutes till I drop them off.
 Mobile phones to me can be very anti-social things, many times I have had three or four passengers in the taxi and instead of talking to each other they are all talking and texting to other people on their smartphones.
And I really really hate it when children are asking mum questions or trying to talk about their day and the mum completely ignores them because they have to urgently  update facebook or text back to some rubbish on messenger!
  The other anti-social thing that winds me up is when they get in the taxi wearing earphones and then turn the music down to tell you where they are going and then turn it right up to the max again for the rest of the journey.
 Some folk have it that loud that that I can hear the music louder than the car radio, that surely must be damaging these antisocial music fanatics hearing in some way.

Mirror Image

Driving down Barrow's main entrance, the lovely Abbey Rd going into town with a guy in the front. We were talking away when we both noticed at the same time something about the car in front. The driver’s side door mirror was pulled right in so that it would be impossible to see behind and as we got closer we could see that the young lady driver had also adjusted her rear view mirror towards herself. She was adjusting her hair and makeup as she drove along at forty miles an hour. 
She obviously couldn't see us behind and we were laughing away at her. This went on for about two miles and we were right behind her when she stopped at the many red lights and made even more adjustments in both mirrors.
 Eventually we were turning left so we were stopped at a red light on the inside lane right next to her, it took her a while to realise that she was being watched and laughed at and when she did she went bright red and set of before the light went green. I said to my passenger that if you could get hairdryers, hair tongs, or straighteners that plugged into the cars cigarette lighter then some of these women would actually use them.

Kinky Dress

Two young ladies were deep in the middle of a conversation when they got into the back of the taxi this morning.
” Well you can borrow one of mine if you want” said one" I've got a nurse, policewoman’s and a French maid’s outfit at home” 
Then she must have spotted my widely gaping mouth or straining flapping ears.
 She laughed and said “hey it’s nothing kinky we've been invited to a fancy dress party tonight” .
Oh yes  and you just happened to have those type of outfits already at home did you, I laughingly replied ?
 They both then went bright red and kept bursting out giggling for the rest of the trip.
 Still who knows, maybe they belonged to someone else  her Dad maybe eh!.

Devious Sunday

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!.

Short Skirt = Low Fare

A council is considering urging taxi firms to provide cheaper cab fares for women who wear revealing clothes.

Brentwood Borough Council is considering the bizarre move in a bid to stop women wearing short skirts or low-cut tops becoming a target for sex attackers.

The council is considering discounted taxi prices so that 'provocatively dressed' women can be driven back home and have less of a problem getting a ride. 

So lets get this right this council wants taxi drivers to subsidise fares according to what females are wearing.

Sort of the less they are wearing then the cheaper the fare!

I wonder who would be the judge of whether the outfit they were wearing was revealing enough. Would they have to do a twirl whilst the driver decided if they looked sexy enough or would it be up to the customer to point out how short the skirt they were wearing was?

Would the other attributes of the lady be taken into account, is she attractive enough to be at risk?

And isn't this all a bit sexist, I mean do cross dressers qualify.

Maybe the term Daft as Brushes fits some of the councilors in Brentwood like a well filled padded bra.    

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2394260/Brentwood-Borough-Council-considers-taxi-fare-discount-scantily-clad-girls-stop-attacked.html#ixzz2c3nVuEXP
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http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2394260/Brentwood-Borough-Council-considers-taxi-fare-discount-scantily-clad-girls-stop-attacked.html

Walney Mosque

I had picked up from a local supermarket; my fare was a middle aged woman who started to whinge about everything and anything from the very moment she got into the taxi.
She was going to Walney island and on the way started to whinge about problems she had about the island, after a moan about the wind which is always prevalent over there she started on the subject of new folks moving on to the island. "The bloody p***i's are taking over the place" she moaned, "They are even taking over the bloody pubs," she cried.
She explained what she meant in a long racist rant which boiled down to that some Asians had taken on a local island pub the King Alfred and turned part of it into an Indian restaurant and renaming it the Mr Elephant, and then they had gone on to take over the George Hotel another island pub which has long been in decline.
Driving along Walneys promenade, she looked up towards what was a long abandoned church which has now been demolished apart from its bell tower and was covered by scaffolding.
“What are they doing there?” she asked pointing at the tower.
Instantly my evil alter ego kicked in and keeping a straight face, I lied to her that it was going to be the new mosque for all the muslins moving onto Walney.
Egged on by the look of sheer outrage on her face I went on to say that they had left the bell tower intact to convert to a minaret so that the call to prayer could be heard all over the island.

She was still muttering and plotting petitions and letters to her MP when I dropped her off ten minutes later.

I keep laughing about it every time I drive past the pretend mosque several times a day; hope she doesn’t remember me next time I pick her up eh!

Window Cleaner

I have gotten used to some of my fares taking their own sweet time coming out of their houses and getting into the Taxi that they have ordered. Usually it’s a case of not being quite ready because the cab arrived quicker than they thought. Sometimes they struggle to find keys, mobile phone, tickets etc, this is par for the course and doesn’t bother me unduly.

But today when I arrived outside the fares house bang on time was a first for me and left me slightly bewildered. My fare, a well dressed fairly normal looking woman looked out of her front door and raised one finger towards me which is the usual signal to say that she would be out in a minute or so. Imagine my surprise when she reappeared with a window cleaning squeegee and promptly started to clean her front bay window.

She rushed at it as a woman possessed and the squeegee was a blur as she washed and dried off her window in record time.

She then threw the window cleaning gear back into her house, came out, and got in the taxi.

She could see my perplexed expression and so had to give me some kind of explanation.  She said “that mucky window has been driving me mad all morning and I just couldn’t leave the house with it like that, it would have driven me mad thinking about it.”

Some folk really are a bit strange eh!

Drunken Woman

Its not that often I get out on the road these days as a taxi driver but when I do I`m always looking for something interesting.

Last night I picked 3 women up that had been to a party. It was a family party, there was mother, daughter and daughters daughter and most people can go out and have a good time and go home happy but its not always the case as there is always one who cannot handle their drink.

The middle aged woman in tha back of the car sandwiched between the other two was extremely abusive verbally to both the other passengers. Now the journey meant 3 different people being dropped off at 3 different addresses and I was just hoping the drunken woman would not be the last in case she couldnt pay the fare.

After having to listen to a torrent of four letter words and abuse from this woman directed at the other two I was glad to get to my first drop off address where one woman got out of the car followed by the abusive woman who then started shouting at the top of her voice in the street waking up residents. She was soon shoved back in the car and I carried on my journey. I had only got about 100 yards up the road when they started fighting in the back of the car.

It was at this point I stopped the car and told them both to get out. The drunken one fell out and was all over the place. the other one was very apologetic and paid the fare and so I went on my way.

What I cant understand is why people have to have stupid arguments, get aggressive and not be in control of themselves and its usually the women.

Alcohol enhances your mood so if you go out in a good mood you should in theory go home in a good mood. Unfortunatly it works the other way as well so if you go out looking for trouble then the chances are that you will find it.

Its all part of the job description these days and my main concern is for the safety of myself and other passengers as well as other road users if the vehicle is moving so by getting them out the car I think I did the right thing.

Bingo!!!!!

Bingo must be a very popular game among both old and young as we pick up all walks of life from the sad pathetic chavs to the old age pensioners that like to while away a few hours of the day playing their favorite game.

Some people go to pass a few hours during the day for a little fun. Others take it more seriously and go to gamble their money with a chance of winning and others virtually live in the bingo halls spending money day and night.

After the game of bingo, the taxi driver will wait to pick the fare up and the fare on most occasions will see the taxi driver waiting and keep us waiting whilst they feed the rest of their money into slot machines hoping to make a big win.

The chances are they will come out and get in the cab and say they didnt win and have a moan about why they bother going and that theu`ve spent all their money and so this leads to a situation earlier this week when I picked up a young chav from the bingo. She saw me waiting but kept feeding more and more coins into a rather hungry looking slot machine and shouting abuse at it. Shortly after she came out and attempted to light up what seemed the end of a cigarette, took 2 puffs then threw it down on the floor and then got in my car.

In true Jeremy Kyle chav style she said "Didnt win again, dunno why I bother, its good fun though innit, i need a drink, sort of... take me to the Barrow Arms innit"

After translating this I made the journey of less than half a mile and she was telling me how good she was at playing bingo and hardly ever lost. Its a game of skill she said, you have to have an idea of what numbers are going to come up..

Game of SKILL..... Its balls coming out of a machine at Random.. She wasnt happy when i told her this. I went on to say that there's no skill in bingo. Its numbers at random being drawn and marked off on a card. How can that be skilful.

She wasn't happy when I pointed out that bingo was just like the lottery. Its a gamble. You pay your money and you either win or lose. There's no skill.

At the end of the short journey she had the cheek to say that the taxis are too expensive and take up all her money. This sad pathetic whimp of a chav had just spent a fair few quid in the bingo, is now off to the pub to spend probably a lot more and she whinges about the taxi fare.

Think I`ll put the lottery on tonight. If I do it a set way, maybe I will win... I think not. Its all totally RANDOM.

Now lets see how many bingo players I`ve upset.

Mobile Cloakroom

It was a busy weekend just gone and two young ladies I picked up from one town centre pub wanted to go to another. The thing is that one of the young ladies had a jacket and she didn't want to take it in every pub with her and had the cheek to ask me to take it and drop it off at a house on walney for her tomorrow. I refused as I am not responsible for other peoples property, I am not a mobile cloakroom or is that slowly becoming part of the taxi drivers job description. Bloody cheek of it.

I got the impression that she just expected me to drop it off for her free of charge the next day but she was that drunk I doubt that she would even remember where she left her jacket when she takes it off in a pub later on in the night

Late for a night out

Picked up 3 girls who were all dolled up ready for a girly night out on the town and as I set off into town the girl sat in the front seat pulled down the sun visor so she could use the mirror to apply some lipstick.

It was at this point that I couldnt help but go on and off the brake pedal ever so slightly and watch her miss her mouse and get it all over her face.

Cruel or what!!!!. And whilst i`m on the subject. Why do they call it lipstick. It doesnt stick their lips together. Pity!!!!!

WWW,,,,what?

This one although American is just as relevant over here at the moment.

Hide and Seek.

It was a miserable midweek rainy grey late afternoon, just the sort of day when I gaze at the empty streets and speculate to myself, just where folks disappear to and just what do they get up to.

 One of the answers was revealed when I collected a flustered lady who was in a big hurry. "Where does time go" she asked "I should have been home an hour ago for the kids coming home from school." "Did you get talking?" I asked in all innocence and when she hesitated to answer I glanced in the mirror to see that she had gone a shade of beetroot red. "I was visiting my boyfriend and when I went to leave I couldn't find my jumper, I’ve only got my bra on underneath this coat." she blurted out, and then realised what she had just said. Her hand flew to her mouth and she went an even deeper shade of red. "Oh my gawd" she shrieked "you'll know what I've been doing now won't you?" Being a sophisticated man of the world I had to admit that I had a fair idea just what she had been up to. “So you lost then?” I asked, but she just looked at me blankly and going even redder replied “lost what?” “You can’t fool me” I replied “I know what you have been playing at.” The steam started to rise from her overheated face and her mouth moved but no sound come out. After leaving her to stew for a minute or two I said “Aye you’ve been playing hide and seeks with your jumper and you’re embarrassed cos you lost.”

Soap Opera

Now and again one of my fares will ask me if I had watched a reality TV show or one of the soap operas the previous night. Nine times out of ten I answer "no I don't watch much telly" and the fare will look at me as if I must be criminally insane or live in some strange other universe. But the plain and simple truth is that I just don't need to watch reality TV, reality plays out each and every day on the back seats of my cab. All the real life drama, comedy and tragedy you could dream of are unveiled by passengers telling me of their sometimes chaotic lives.

 The big difference being that instead of some attention seeking, money grabbing wannabe my reality show stars are real genuine local folks. And as for soaps, well some folks will give me the latest episode of their storyline each time I pick them up, sometimes the plot will be a bit dull but with others I just can’t wait for the next thrilling installment.

Take Saturday night for instance, a five mile trip turned into a whole series of roller coaster emotions, all played out on my all knowing back seat.

 I took no part in the performance; all the scenes starred just the one young starlet and her mobile phone. The first call she received seemed normal enough at first but soon degenerated into a full blown row with what I assumed was her partner. The accusations flew back and forth and voices were raised to a shout for a few minutes and then the phone was obviously slammed down on her. She looked at the phone for a minute obviously frustrated that she couldn't finish the verbal fight and then tried redial a few times. When she got no reply she let out a piercing frustrated scream and then burst into floods of tears. After a while the phone rang and she snatched it to her ear expectantly, but no it wasn't the kiss and make up call she was expecting but someone threatening her with violence in retaliation for some punch-up that she had been involved with the previous night. She seemed frightened and pleaded with the caller that wasn't her fault and that she didn't start it, and that she “didn't want no trouble.” After she had soft soaped her way out of a bashing she hung up only for the phone to ring yet again with another caller. This time it was my fare that was straight on the attack loudly accusing the caller of “grassing her up for doin that tart over” and threatening to “kick her head in.” After delivering a filthy tirade of swearing and abuse it was my fares turn to slam the phone down.

 We reached her destination and it was time for the closing credits, but the phone rang yet again and I couldn't help but notice that she smiled in anticipation of the next thrilling episode.

Why Me?

I’m beginning to wonder if it's just me, or is it some sort of conspiracy that I end up with the strangest jobs. Today for example I was asked to do a cigarette run, which in itself isn't all that unusual, quite a few housebound nicotine addicts ask us to buy fags for them and then deliver them. 

But when I arrived at the house which had asked for ten coffin nails today I was greeted by a woman waving a bunch of keys out of the open window. I was thrown the keys and asked to let myself in, which I did. The ould lass grabbed her precious cancer causers and started to rip into the packaging seeming to forget that I was there. It was only after she had lit one and greedily puffed one or two deep drags of nicotine that she remembered why I was there. Whilst blowing clouds of noxious smoke toward me she announced "I ain't got any money you'll have to come back in the morning." "Great I thought robbed again” as you might guess I don't smoke, so nine fags weren't a lot of use to me, so I put it down to yet another bad experience and left. Nobody was more surprised than me when she rang the office next day and asked me to go over to be paid for the fags and fare. But when I got there and again was passed the keys out the window, as I suspected, there was a catch. She handed me a £20 note and asked me to visit the local grog shop and get her some booze. I felt like some kind of secret alcoholic as I walked out of the shop at 11 am with three cans of the strongest cheapest lager known to man.

 But the surprises didn't end there; when I handed over the loony-juice to the cantankerous granny she actually paid me in full and added a generous tip.

Hard Life

For the last week or so I have been doing an occasional job transporting Russian sailors to and from the airport.

 The lucky ones were going home on leave from coasters carrying cargo into Barrow docks. Most are nice enough guys, but only speak as much English as I do Russian, and so the conversation is a bit limited. The one universally known word among them is "smoke," I have never known a Russian who doesn't smoke and so when I turn into the first service station on route and say the magic word it always brings on a big smile and" OK da." The replacement sailors I take to join the ships always look a bit glum and when I picked up one who spoke a fair bit of English, I learnt why.

I like a lot of folk had the false notion that these seafarers had the life of riley, seeing the world and meeting a new girl in every port. But no apparently I couldn't have been more wrong, he told me that most sign up for a six month contract and when they join the rest of the small crew on the vessel, that's it for the full six months they just never leave the ship. All of these vessels are registered under flags of convenience and so the minimum wage and health and safety rules just don't apply to these poor guys.

Since it is the first time inland in the UK for most of them I like to try and show them round our area if I get the chance. As well as many other local delights they get pointed out Dalton Wildlife Park and our spectacular Furness Abbey.

When I explained to the Russian sailor who spoke some English that the huge DDH shed was where nuclear submarines were built he pointed out that a few years back I would have been called a traitor and he would have been jailed as a spy.

On Friday night the Russian I collected from his ship was happy be going home but as it was 1: am and pitch black I wasn't able to point out our local landmarks. But as compensation I decided to drive him out of town by going past our local nightclubs and bars. As soon as we turned towards Barrow’s infamous Caza strip his mouth dropped open in amazement as he was confronted with the sight of hundreds of scantily clad young lasses. Two or three were lying on the pavement, legs akimbo and a few were happily vomiting the night away.

 A bit further up the street police struggled to break up a fight and the back doors of the police van were flung open ready to transport that nights bed and breakfast guests.

The sailor could speak a little English and he asked if Barrow was a big city and what was the population. When I told him “maybe sixty thousand” he laughed and replied “da and maybe ten thousand drunks, yes”