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I’ve just got to tell you what happened in the back of the car last night.
More than that, I’ve got to tell you about the whole job. Every bloody bit of it.
Because you are just not going to believe it.
So I get this call at about three yesterday afternoon. It’s New Year’s Eve. And it’s a New Year’s Eve like no other. I’ve got no jobs. No one has any jobs. Because nowhere is open. Lockdown has shot all of us in this line of work. Rides are rare. But I get this call for a booking. Now I’m interested, but first up I ask if it’s a joke.
The caller assures me she is one hundred per cent genuine. Her name is Alexis and I remember her. She shares an apartment with two other girls. She’s booked several times before, and I know she likes to have a laugh and a good time. She often books last minute after a few drinks.
She tells me she’s fed up with this lockdown.
“Don’t I know it,” I reply. “It’s hitting my business real bad.”
She says that her flatmates and her are missing bars and parties and clubs and people and fun.
“I’m with you on that,” I say. “I’m missing them and those fares.”
Then she asks if she could hire the limo. Tonight. She knows I’ve got a limo in the fleet, though I’ve only ever booked her a cab before.
She tells me that she and her flatmates want to have their own New Year’s Eve party tonight. In the limo! They want to be picked up in the square, by the big Christmas tree, at ten. They want the bar in the back fully stocked and several bottles of bubbly on ice. If they can’t go to the party, the party’s going to go for them!
“I can do that,” I tell them. “No trouble.”
Then comes the big request. They want a human with a cock waiting for them in the limo. That’s God’s honest truth. They want a stud. And I’ve only got seven hours to find one! But they are willing to pay, and god do I need the money.
So, I talk to my business partner. We make a few quick decisions. And what is that saying about decisions like that? Decide in haste, repent at leisure. So, we decided in haste. Real haste. But there ain’t going to be any repenting afterwards, I’m telling you. And seven hours later I’m driving to the square.
They are there. Waving sparklers in front of that huge Christmas tree and just having the type of good time only girls can have when they hit the town.
They see me as I pull up and straight away they start chattering and giggling. Excited. Eager. Enjoying that ‘before’ moment. They dance and skip up to the limo, arm in arm.
So I nod to Angelo (he’s my stand-in stud, I’ll tell you about this later) to act the gentleman and get out and open the door for them and offer them a drink.
The three of them pile in like it was the end of the party, not the start of it. I’m telling you, they were buzzing. The fizz starts to flow and they are cheering and laughing like they were at a festival and the lead act had just walked on.