ADVENTURES AY A TAXI DRIVER

(Aye, this is sexually explicit)

1: RANDY FANNY

Random Friday night, roond aboot eight, twintyeighteen, dirtyseat Fawkirk private car purgatory. Sharkprowl, eywis-moving boredom, utter petrol waste, fuck this pish. Goat the signal, pick up in Bainsfurt. Drove oan doon tae Abbotsford Street nixt tae the playpark, washed-oot youthful memories raggedly intruding. Langlees looks a helluva sight better noo, loat ay money spent oan it by the haufwit cooncil, wis a scary bogeyman cowp whin ah wis a wean. 

Eh...whit wis ah...

...onywey, firget that mistyeyed whaur’d-it-aw-go tangent, back tae the present. 

Puhed the scabby rattling-injin car up, sent the punter-alerting text. Couplay minutes go by. Then the door flees open n lobby light splits the night n sickly hardly-bright yellay splashes oot oor iviryhing. Four sortay-pished birds spill oot, mid-tae-late-twinties, anti-sobriety vendetta personified, various states ay undress, bouncy oestrogen legs n breasts collage, mock indignant screams, fuck off ya bitch, phones flashing, flinging jaykets oan, ye ken how that goes. Clearly been belting intae the bevvy afore phoning thir taxi. Aye right, nae bother. Wee bit ay spankworthy bahookie-looking, how no, it's whit it's there fir. High heels, squeals, youse goat iviryhing, chorus ay ayes, door shut n locked behind the last yin oot, keys dropped in bag, joining the teeter-totting caravan procession doon the path, a hijacked Helen Gloag oan her wey tae sweetly seduce the dumbstruck Sultan ay Morocco or mibbe jist git some cunt ootay a pub or club tae rattle her fanny. Ye ken how that goes tae. Three doors open simultaneously, hiya driver haha teehee giggle giggle wir gaun up the toon tae Sanam fir a curry, goat a booking, bloody starving, moan youse stoap pissing aboot git in n lit’s git moving!

Near-simultaneous heavy metal crash ay three shutting doors, sudden influx ay vodka breath n heady perfume clashes mixing in the immediately tiny carspace, shooders extendit, birds shifting aboot, seatbelts fumbled wi, rhythmic click ay communicative nails oan phonescreen under thinly-illuminatit faces, cackles n screeches n silly dinnae-mean-it threats n moans n adjusting ay hair n lipstick applied n lips smooshed n poutypushed oot n teeth licked n the hale alluring trapsnare picture finally aesthetically acceptit. Matchless in-the-wild beauty snapshot. Wait until thir aw strapped in n pu off, no a hugely long journey, jist a mile or so up the toon. N very quickly it aw comes oot, three ay thum huv guys, meet thum later up Temple nixt tae the canal in Bainsfurt, litterbug frenzy location ay discardit knickers n emptied stomachs oan Setirday n Sunday mornings, a gaudy wee watertight place ay a hauf-dozen names oor the years. It wis the Martell whin ah wis young, or the Tartell as it wis cried fir the usual obvious sighing comedy reasons. Thir gonnae try n git their pal a man. She’s a wee bit curvier thin her three slinky yowling hauf-hauf-cut fuck-ready pals, n they aw start taking the piss ootay her a wee bit, nae malice, jist lovely young Scottish working class women haeing a laugh, joking aboot gitting thir apparently shagging-gagging pal a ride the night. Nae airs or graces, real twinkle-eyed women, merry fertile rebel disgraces.

Tae deflect attention awa fae hersel, n tae no lose face, the guyless bird starts a wee sleazy dialogue behind ma heid tae me, playing tae the sniggering predatory gallery, telling me she’d gie me the best blowjob ay ma life, ah'd nivir firget it, n she swallays. Ah chuckle n say nuhhin ah kin say tae that. Her bravado barrage starts a wee conversation amongst the ither birds aboot fellatio. Ah swallay, says yin fae the back seat, grinning n primping her hair. Ah think it’s rude no tae swallay, says the yin sitting nixt tae me, a wee darkhair honey tae, scanning ma face mischievously. Ye awright there? Ah chuckle. He’s loving it, she laughs tae her pals, tongue hornily clucking aff her top lip is she dis tae accentuate her enjoyment ay the conversation n the word loving. Well, it dis bring back some pleasant memories, ah concede, chuckling again, random images ay shooting ma load intae the gub ay yin beautiful wee honey in Chicago the first time we wir thegither coming tae mind n mooth. That lassie couldnae stop sucking ma cock fir six amazing wetsheet sexfilled months. Still occasionally miss her tae this day.

Thir's worse weys tae git sexually harassed it work, ah must say, n ah've suffered some ay thum.

So it didnae take too long tae git up the toon, Callendar Road, up nixt tae the park. Clucks n tuts n yabuggerye sideweys-staggers giggling semidrunk bird evacuation is the yin in the front paid the fare, aff tae fill her gub wi spicy oral pleasure. Lucky bugger. Masel, ah might jist make dae wi some reheatit processed shite fae the BP doon Carron Road. The joys ay life oan the circular road.

Purely by coincidence ah goat the caw tae take thum doon tae Temple a couplay oors later. They wir mair pished, hud obviously been gitting in aboot the lean mean vino or whitivir, spewing gossip n relationship n wean n work n fave film facts nae doot, aw the usual weekend-coming work release n relief, a working class time-honoured tradition back tae the middle ay whinivir firivir, eighties nostalgia striking clean n quick n pure afore being gone in a fuck-it flash.

They stuttered n staggered n stumbled intae the motor, laughing it haeing me is a driver again, rewinding n recreating the anchoring seatbelt ritual, the fleshy bounce orbit, the peerless beauty velocity, the arseshifting side-tae-sides, the pal moans, the glazed confused murmurs, the door shutting, n...aff...we...go! Random mosaic ay floating conversation aboot scran n bevvy in the restaurant. Ma tasty wastit curvaceous wannabe-cocksucker seems a wee bit mair morose n slightly desperate, back tae the knobgobbing riff, ah’ll suck yer cock fir the fare, driver. Ah chuckle, n yin ay her pals says bit it’s only three quid! Thir’s amused shock in her pished-up voice, n the rest ay the women crack up like fuck. Ah mean whin we git doon there, no the noo, says the drunkenly shrugging attemptit boaby guzzler, nuzzling her black-affrontit retort close tae her ample jiggling bosom, vaguely visible through her jayket in the conspiratorial titkeek rearview. Must admit, it did look guid, likesay, bit ah, the fuck wi it. Aw jist banter onywey, ah kent the score.

Five minutes n we wir there, folk milling ootside in drunk bovine hopeful-fuck expectation, insignificant ithers being phoned by screaming birds whaur they fuck ur ye wir here, unimpressed bouncers, amazing calf-muscle-flex legshows ay shortskirt vaginal smiles, sweaty drunk wantafight guys in untucked shirts confused by iviryhing staggering roond in ivir-decreasing nae-escape circles, shouting n handclapping some fitty chimp anthem fir nae interesting tomorrow, the usual yawnworthy or funny small toon pished pish n empty calorie evening gristle. 

Different bird in the front seat peys this time, n ma wannabe pal says she’ll show me her tits n quickly lifts her tap. Ah didnae see, ah say, catching the merest vaguest glimpse, n her pal loudly says tae flasherbird he didnae see! N ah turn tae see ma near-erupting Venus Vesuvius cocksucker fan flash again, bit it wis only her bra baith times. Ah smile n say cheers n she scrambles pishedly oot, saying thanks driver. Aye nae bother, doorslam, caravan ay drunk women intae wreckage-shopper’s loudsound paradise. Ah chuckled, pit oan some loud punk CD, n drove off again, needing tae git petrol. Ah wished ma pal well, n imagined she wid git whit she looked fir that night, wi the help ay her cock-pointer pals. Whit mair dae ye want?

2: SCARY MANNY

Same year in the endless repeating chauffeur void. Past yin oan some random weekday morning. Pitch black sleeping-toon neurosis. Wis tae pick this cunt up fae jist aff Dollar Road in Bainsfurt, jist roond the corner fae whaur ah grew up. Pu up n park in the driveway, n he’ll see ye n come doon, ah wis telt. Aye nae bother. Odd thit he widnae want me tae jist park oan the street in a really quiet area, but whitivir. The customer is eywis wrong. So ah pued up, sat, steering wheel fingerdrumming, hohum, music turned aff tae no wake naecunt. Hud a pal thit steyed in this street whin we wur mad teenagers. We hid yin time in a shed in his parents’ gairden whin we hud tae run fae the cops eftir shooting aff fireworks oan Bainsfurt Main Street it cunts whae wurnae happy aboot it. Close-by footfaws, held-breath medleys, relief-sighing thiv-fucked-aff happysmiles. Ah, neon-colour-exploding youthfueled memories, the usual sweet innocent chaos.

So the punter cunt eventually comes oot, took his sweet fucking time. Sits in the front nixt tae me, shuts the door, gies me an address aboot a mile awa in Langlees. The place used tae be devastit junkie central, sadly wastit life avenue, n this cunt kinnay looks the pairt. Unshaven, shifty, eterno-swivel eagle-eyes, ready-fir-action man. Cunt immediately struck me is some kinnay drug dealer, bit fuck, whit dae ah ken or care? Independent pharmaceutical entrepreneurs need lifts tae. Strikes me this is gonnae be a past-midnight drug drop, bit ah dinnae ken or care or say fuck aw, fir obvious reasons. Eftir a minute this heid-the-baw is gien oot serious bad fucking energy, n ah jist want rid ay the cunt, thank fuck n luck thit the address wisnae aw that far awa.

So aye, wir driving, n we go oor a wee pothole in the perfect clunk-click Fawkirk road. The camera oan the car snaps oan n starts filming. Instantly inaction man is aw edgy is fuck n heid turning in panic ten tae the dozen, looking like yin ay they clowns ye fling baws it it the fair tae go in thir mooth n win a prize. In this case the prize will be me no gitting stabbed or suhhin. Whit’s that? Whit’s that? How’s it filming? This weird cunt is no happy. Ah suffer fae psychosis! Ah dinnae like that! Cunt looks like he’s gonnae start swinging it me, like ah’m fae fucking MI5 or suhhin. Nutter! It’s jist a camera thiv goat in the car thit goes aff if we go oor a bump. It’s in case some cunt bumps intae ye n takes off withoot stopping. It only records the ootside ay the vehicle. Ah widnae work fir the company if it recordit inside the vehicle, that wid be far too intrusive, ah say fake-indignantly, riffing, gitting a wee bit spooked n wanting tae calm the cunt doon. Ah suffer fae psychosis he says again, though wi thankfully slightly less emphasis, like ah hud contradictit him, n ah say sorry tae hear that, must be terrible. Thank fuck oor destination is up ahead! Cannae wait tae git this paranoid loony the fuck ootay ma car.

The camera clicks aff. Thank fuck.

So we pu up, n ah tell him the fare, n pit the light oan tae git ready tae gie him his change. He rakes through yin poacket n puhs oot some twinties n fifties, regarding thum in confusion n annoyance. Looks like ah wis right, ah note internally. Bit no, he’s no handing me a big note fir a wee fare. Digs in his left poacket. Finds some spare change n hands me some. Nae tip. Gits the fuck ootay the car, stuffing his ill-gotten-gains back in his pooch. Slams the door n fucks aff, thankfully no asking me tae wait. Right then is whin ah start tae hink fuck, this joab mibbe isnae fir me, freaked oot tae fuck, n git the fuck ootay there. Still nae idea whit the fuck the hale hing wis aboot tae this day. The hings ye see whin ye’ve no goat a gun, fir fucksake…

 

THE END