Home at last, as always Friday night has had its fair share of trials and tribulations, from sleepers to screamers.

Good Samaritans are few and far between, but when they pop up their head it is worth the wait. A young lady comes up to me outside the club (I’m a taxi driver in another life by the way), asking if she can put a girl in the back.

Someone she does not even know I might add, along with the young guy in tow also keen to lend a helping hand. And after giving me a phone number of the drunk girls mother in law, taken from her phone we start to find out where she lives.

The young girl now in the back on being asked where she lives then decides to spurt out drivel along the lines of conflicting post code and street name however, by means of deduction and deciphering the muttered code beneath the alcohol induced slur we manage to work out where she lives……..so off we go, me driving and the girl slumped in the back, fast asleep.

We eventually pull into a very dark country lane with houses on both sides, I make the call to the mother in law, drunk girl holding onto my arm we walk up a grassy bank, she is not in a good way. Finally we find the house, key in hand she manages to get in saying thank you for getting her home.

The sad thing, she must have been no more than 18-19 years old and in a very vulnerable position on her own and abandoned by friends, at this time of night in my trade, this is the order of the day. I’m thanked on the phone by the in-law and told that I am a gentlemen. I have a daughter of my own (still young) and I dread the day when history repeats itself and it is the turn of my lil angel to repeat this process.

Although a fairly quiet night tonight there were other couples who got in that, if they made anymore noise I would have burst ear drums by now. For a society that is set in the paradigm of repeating the words ‘we have no money there is not much of it about’ they seem to do well by going out. Which is good because it keep things moving and keeps the likes of me out of trouble.

All too well do we know of someone getting attacked whilst walking home one their own damn, I have even given lady’s a lift home for free cause they have run out of money, and the mere thought of something happening to them scares the life out of me. As sure as the sky is blue, low and behold on the road out of town before coming home, there are a group of lads standing around a guy on the floor, passed out, knocked out, I have no idea. Two police cars come screaming by me towards them, and the effluent tanker driver in front of me doubles back around the roundabout and back into town. No doubt he wants a cheeky look at what’s going on, good or bad I’ll let you decide, but not a type of voyerism I want to take part in to be honest, my bed is calling.

Many of us go out to chat, mingle and even relax. I know me and my partner do, I don’t really drink that much anymore to be honest. The thought of waking up in the morning with a hangover does not come high on my list of pleasures to be honest, there comes a stage even after the jokes where the statement “I’m getting to old for this” finally becomes true!



    1. I have to admit, I don’t make a habit of it, we all have to make a living. They are rare cases, but is has happened. Wouldn’t want it on my conscience reading it in the local paper that a lady was attacked and it was one that I just drove by.

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