I live very high there...

Two young lads approached me in Piccadilly Circus. "How much to Travelodge Covent Garden?" - asked a fat, dodgy looking fellow with funny cut eyebrows. He wore those, well corny, big, round, bad boy style, goldie looking signet rings. He had that attitude too, one could tell by his eyes... The other lad looked pretty harmless. The bully haggled hard. Finally we agreed a tenner fare. As soon as I got to their hotel fatty looked around and said: "It's not the one. Go there!" He showed me a little, back street off Drury Lane. I did as he wanted. "Stop here!" - he ordered. "We haven't got any money!" He looked at me boldly. "We've got to get in!" So now it actually was their hotel. "I'll go with you." - was my answer. I got off my trike. Bully had an opportunity to see clearly that I was much bigger than him. And it was his idea to get into that back street... He didn't seem to be so self confident any more. "But I live very high there, you see..." He indicated hotel's upper floors. "It's ok!" I grinned. "Ok. We've got only a fiver, actually six quid..." "Well, I need four more then..." Fatty looked rather lost. Other lad looked pretty harmless. "Erm... Have you got change?" "Loads!" I assured him.

Phone calls from wifes and girlfriends

Early in a morning, especially on Sundays, the base where we keep our rickshaws is definitely taken to another dimension or maybe even a higher mystical level. Entering an altered state of consciousness many of us become Übermenschen. Superman Alex (he´s a geezer), Frenchie, Billy, Hungarian Brotherhood, Immortal Fans of Vallenato and many other Little Big Men drift away in search of meaning of life or maybe quite on contrary, to try to forget what is this actually all about... Incredible, true stories, quips, banters and wisecracks, nutters, lost and promiscuous female clubbers and even true artists whirl around like colorful, exotic butterflies amongst vivid and withal exotic flowers. Rickshaws´soundsystems emit beats, hands transmit joints and bottles, wise conversate, fools laugh, nuts go nuts. Time passes quickly and suddenly mobile phones start to twitter. ¨Don´t go!¨ - a friend stops me. ¨Why not?¨ ´Let´s stay and drink!¨ Showing me his mobile he adds: ¨My battery got flat and no one has a nokia charger but that´s all right cause my girlfriend can´t call me!¨

Figure that out

I was right by the base when that young man stopped me. It was about 4.30 am, cold like hell. He wanted to go to Tower Hill. I gave him a critical look. Nice black suit, white shirt and smart shoes, all new and all dramatically spoiled. It seemed like he was weltering about in half melted, muddy snow on a road, or God knows where and in what exactly... At that moment he was already quite sober. ¨Have you got money to pay me?¨ ¨Don't worry! I will make sure that you get your money!¨ He turned around and went to a cash point nearby. Furtively I removed my blanket from passenger´s seat. (It would be bad enough has he stained the seat itself. Why should I wash my blanket only because he doesn't know how to drink?) He came back with some receipt in his hand. ¨Can you figure that out?¨ ¨Sure!¨ I took it from his hand and read loudly: ¨Your card has been blocked...¨ ¨Hmm... Could you give me some directions please?¨ I showed him the way and placed my blanket back on the seat.

Pussy´s smell

A fellow rider told me about his three customers who wanted to go to a strip bar. Everything seemed to be all right, until they got outside that place. Two of them liked it and basically got in. The third one, though, shouted: "I can't smell pussy in here!", quickly mounted that rider's rickshaw and drove it right into a broken glass puncturing front tire. Desperate rider tried to get some help from other two guys and asked them to talk some sens into that geezer. By the time he got them out, from that bar's reception area the third nutter drove off and even flat tire wasn't able to stop him or slow him down too much... Seeing that, the rider, chased him hastily. The loony finally abandoned his tricycle and fled.

Message in the bottle

There was a bottle in Cambridge Circus. She was a wine bottle. Once full and corked, now abandoned and nearly empty. Nearly. She wasn´t complaining though. At least she wasn´t broken yet and there was something left over inside of her. Nobody could even try to talk about half emptiness here but nevertheless... ¨They only want you when you´re seventeen, when you´re twenty one you re´not fun...¨ - the bottle was humming quietly and that very moment a, somewhat homeless, geezer spotted her and marveled at her, somewhat passing, beauty. He approached her unabashedly, lifted her up and looked through her! The he looked inside her, right through her neck! Finally he smelled her and one could tell that he liked her more and more! She accepted his advances enthusiastically! He swept her away like a bat out of hell and carried her in his arms like a little baby. ¨What a beautiful couple!¨ would have thought anybody who had seen them together.

Father Christmas

Why people who go out for a drink in December eagerly wear Father Christmas's suits?!? In any case I met one of those last night on Oxford St. He was quite drunk and looked lost. I asked him if he needed directions. "Thank you mate!" - he replied politely - "I know very well where I am. I do appreciate what you do! I don't think you can help me but I'll give you a story." I was all ears :)
"Look at this building! I've got to buy it within a few days..." "Really?! What you gonna do with it?"
"I'll smash it and then I'll rebuild it. The problem is that property behind it... I've been working on it during last five days... " He looked ridiculous in his red suit. He was pretty boozy and the whole situation was hmmm... surreal. Nevertheless I tended to believe that he was genuine. Finally he shook my hand and disappeared in depths of night...

Hey what about me?!

Once I got a lift with two not too young, not too fit and not too slim lasses. I agreed to drive them to their hotel. On the way one of them kept touching, slapping and squeezing my bum. After a while it started to be annoying... I promised her then that as soon as we get outside their hotel I will surely do the same to her. She disregarded my warning completely. After a while we reached our destination. They paid me and as they were about to leave I asked her to wait a moment. She looked puzzled but I didn´t care. I grabbed her arse cheeks with my both hands and started to squeeze them vigorously. Her friend, seeing that, mooned and shouted accusingly ¨Hey! What about me?!?" The porn flick we shot later on is available on my website... LOL LOL LOL

Where is Simon?

Christmas time entails many merry peripeteias.
First of all there were those two guys, one steering another very drunk one, on Regent St. His completely boozed companion wore a big bright orange plastic bag as a bib. I had never seen anything like that before, however I must admit that I truly admired the idea. Seriously, somebody should start to fabricate bibs for late night drunks, so they don't spoil their smart outfits by throwing up all over themselves anymore. After many a year of investigating the problem I daresay that overshoes would be also very applicable.
At some point I had to stop by Oxford Circus station. One rat-arsed young men greeted me in French. He carried on, speaking that language. I asked him why was he speaking French. He answered that he had been taking many french lessons. Then he added (mixing French and English constantly): "Look at Oxford Circus! Look at those people! There's nobody friendly around here! I'm looking for somebody nice and friendly!"
When I asked where was he from he answered that he was a Moroccan from Chicago, leaving in Montreal. Afterwards there was much more nonsense said on his behalf, both in English and French. Finally he said he respected people who took the responsibility of driving others from one place to another and that I was worth much more then I would probably think I was. It was then that he spotted some nightshift workers emerging from the tube station and ran to make friends with them too...
Later on a gent, whom I spotted wondering around Cambrige Circus told me that two Irish gayboys stole his hat and escaped. "How odd!" - he added - "I came here from NY on business trip to get my hat stolen! I'm an Irishman too..." I advised him to write about it in his blog or something. He wished me a good night and went on in search of his hat...
A girl standing not so far from me started to say something in my direction. I couldn't quite get it until I got a bit closer to her (that does not implicate any carnal knowledge of her on my behalf). She kept repeating one phrase. Finally I got it. Giving me a well dramatic look she kept asking: "Where is Simon?!"

I respect your hustle!

Every now and then somebody shouts at me: "Find yourself a real job!" Obviously he walks away quickly while saying it... Many people also refuse to seat "on that thing". I remember once two guys asked me for directions but they didn't know London at all. Very politely I intended to explain to them where was that place they wanted to get to but it was quite hopeless. I offered them a lift then. One of them wouldn't mind, but the other just said loutishly: "I'm not getting on that fucking thing!!!" "Well, fuck off then!" - I advised him eagerly. I smile every time I remind myself the face he pulled while leaving.
On another occasion a customer invited me to join him when getting in a stripbar. One of the bouncers tried to stop him saying: "C'mon! What are you doing! The rickshawriders are just a bunch of punks!"
One night I was stopped by a very posh company. They asked me to take two ladies (likely girlfriends of some of them) to a very expensive hotel. Nobody asked me about price. One of guys gave a acouple of notes to women. As I arrived ladies asked me how much was the lift. Wondering what was gonna happen I said that it was up to them and... I was given a fiver. Very disappointed I told that story to Guiseppe (a very, very experienced rider), later on. He laughed and said: "You see, people give you as much money as they think you look like. Clearly you look like £5!"
One very cold winter night I was cycling through Wardour Street. It was snowing. A guy saw me and exclaimed: "You are a man! I Respect your hustle! You are a big man!" I felt proud, as usual when somebody r e s p e c t e d m y h u s t l e ;~)

Patrician

A seriously looking gent was walking down Regent St. His grey hair and smart clothes gave him an air of a patrician. I asked him politely if he was looking for any bar or any other place at all.
"Actually!" - his accent was rather common - "I would like to go to this hotel in Bayswater." I answered that I could take him there for only £20. "I will walk then!" - said he and carried on. "You are walking wrong direction though!" - I said to his back. "I don't give a fuck!" - to my disappointment uttered the "patrician" and kept walking.

Sexual equality

Whether Emily Davison wanted to attach a Women's Social and Political Union's flag to King's horse Anmar, or not, she was very much successful indeed with the bombing of Chancellor of the Exchequer David Lloyd George's house. That woman had balls, no doubt! How exactly did that contribute to a change in social views is not very clear to me. Nevertheless I'm really happy to see women serving in armed forces, police or being fire fighters. I feast my eyes on female politicians and businesswomen. I totally support Topfreedom. Notwithstanding, once I decided to take a leak at that urinal on Cambridge Circus. Unfortunately I wasn't able to empty my bladder in peace. A passing by French girl looked at me and asked: "Don't you think that it's a bit unfair with the ladies?" What did she really mean? Is having a willey something a bit sex-discriminative? I bet that bit could be a good fun indeed!
As my dear friend Uco uses to say: ¿DONDE VAMOS A ACABAR?

What is this?

I saw those four lads on Regent St. First I thought that they were gay. Mainly because one of them, who nota bene had a very conspicuous fake suntan and was wearing quite peculiar track suit, exclaimed seeing me: "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!!!" "Pecunia non olet!" - I said to myself and asked them if they needed a lift anywhere. One of them got closer and straight away tried to get on my trike. The plastic rain shield worked and he didn't manage to get through. Meanwhile the one who liked me that much was next to me. "You know what you look like?" - he asked jeeringly. Burbling and slurring he compared me to some fucking horse fuck knows where from. Suddenly I got it all very clear. How could I had taken those raving Essex boys for some frisky homosexuals?!? "What is this on your chin?!" - aggressively he pointed out at my goatee. "Your mum's pubic hair!" - I answered somewhat hastily and surprisingly even for myself. Saying that I pressed the pedals. The bastards seethed with anger. One of them tried to grab my trike's canopy the other kicked my rickshaw. I stopped and asked what were they doing. The four bullies closed their ranks and the "sunburnt" call me to "come back here". Three big black guys, waiting on a bus stop nearby started to say something about skinheads. The one wearing tracky announced that I had a very bad breath and therefore should go to brush my teeth. His companions cackled and together off they went.

05:15 AM

That guy stopped me on Shaftesbury Avenue. He said he was from Liverpool. "I want to smash some pussy, bruv!" His nose was pretty deformed. I could see scars on his cheek and forehead. He said he was a man of principles and therefore he wanted to spend on sex maximum £20. By that time all the cheap brothels were already shut. I explained that to him. "Take me to Kings Cross then!" I named the price. He said he'd rather take a minicab but he didn't move. I gave him a better price. He got excited and patting on my canopy exclaimed: "I'll give you ten pounds solid cash! I'm an Arab, bruv! Sumtin' is bettah than nutin'!!!" I laughed and wished him good night. He looked surprised.

Celebrities

One night I started early enough to stop in front of some theater while it was kicking out. I thought I was lucky when a young couple approached me. Much to my surprise as soon as they sat on my trike I got surrounded by a bunch of paparazzi. Flash lamps blazed wildly. My customers didn't seem to mind at all. By the way I had no clue whom they might be... After a little while of striking poses they asked me to move on. The destination was not distant. They didn't ask for a price. I felt curious about how generous those celebs would be. I didn't want to seem greedy though. I decided to give them a reasonable price. Still something in me was expecting a handsome tip. We stopped in front of a popular club in Soho. I asked for £3 per person. That guy put some coins in my hand, thanked me and they were gone quickly. I checked and... It was only five pounds...

Lost

I had a lift to Euston station. As I was about to get back to West End a young Russian lad came to me and said: "Wardour Street, can you do it?! How long?" I told him it would probably take about 10 minutes and he was in. He was in a hurry but still acted very politely. He kept talking with some girl on his phone and soon I realised she was waiting for him somewhere on the street, that's why he was in so much rush. I was pushing on hard. After a while he understood something. "Listen! Where did you pick me up from?" "Euston Station, why?" "You know, I left that club on Wardour Street, in Soho, and I got lost. I walked on and on. I ended up where you picked me up from.. Were I going in circles by any chance?" "Well... Kind of..." - I told him. He asked me to stop by a cash point. He was very grateful and he proved it giving me much more money than I expected. Finally I got him to Wardour Street. The girl waiting for him was very fit. He thanked me again and ran straight to her. It seemed to me that she was slightly annoyed...

Hot cash

A rickshaw stopped in front of me. Two girls jumped off and started to run away without paying the rider. They split and one of them was silly enough to escape my way. I quickly got off my trike, grabbed the wench, lifted her up and carried back. She was very young and cute. The rider who brought them managed to stop the other one. She was a nasty butch dyke. "Let me go! I will pay!" - exclaimed my captive. I lowered her on the ground. She looked at me with admiration: "Wooooow! You are soooo strong!" The other one hearing this gave me a murderous look. "Come here!" The gal took me by my hand and started to push it down her panties. "What the hell are you doing?!!!" - I asked trying to set myself free and nervously looking around. "Oh K'mon!!! I said I was paying! Don't worry! Just put your hand down there..." - she said in such a straightforward manner that I basically followed her instructions. I touched her short cropped pubic her, reached deeper and right by her pussy I found a little wad of notes... "Have you got it? Now give it to me..." - said that Succubus. She paid the man and passed me her phone number, as well. Her lesbian companion was watching me with hate, dangerously close to explode...

Natural perversity of inanimate objects

On Dean St., right by Soho Theater a guy was talking to a cash machine. It lasted a good while. Merciless machine clearly decided that there was no point in condescending and remained silent. Thus ignored man shouted angrily: "Okay then! Keep your fucking money! Can't you spare me even one fucking pound?" Again machine didn't reply.

Theatrical

Around quarter past 4am streets were empty. On my way back to base I followed Shaftesbury Ave until I got to New Oxford St. Then I had to stop in red light. There was a guy standing by and I saw another one approaching, while checking something in his mobile. When the one with mobile got closer the first showed him some leaflet and uttered: "Excuse me sir, have you been to this nightclub?" The other one just ignored him. "Excuse me sir, have you been to this nightclub?" - he repeated intrusively, that leaflet in his extended hand. This time the intruded grabbed leaflet from intruder's palm and slapped him forehand with it. They burst into laughter and walked away together. I laughed as well in appreciation for the show. Suddenly "the intruded" turned round and shouted in my direction: "Is there any kebab shop around here?" "Sure! There's one by Leicester Sq. station!" "AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" - he laughed loudly and pointed me out with his finger - "NICE TRY!!!" Off they went.

Thirteen hundred

A guy approached me on New Oxford Street asking about Holborn tube station. I offered him a lift but he wasn't interested. I gave him directions. "Take care!" - I added. He moved like if he was about to walk away. Suddenly he turned around and said: "Can I tell you a story?" I was all ears.
"I fucked up. On Wednesday I'm flying to Venice with my girlfriend. Yesterday I got paid. I went to casino and I spent all my money there. Thirteen hundred. I don't know what to do now. My girlfriend arrives today. She already exchanged all her money to euros. I was supposed to give her £400... I fucked up mate... I just fucked up big time..." We looked at each other and we laughed. "You know?" - said I - "I write a blog. This is a great story and I'm gonna put it there!" "What you think I should do?" - he asked. "Does your girlfriend know about it?" "Not yet..." "Well then, just laugh now, what else can you do...?" "Well I'm laughing now, but this is real... Tomorrow you will probably read in a newspaper about some guy who jumped off a rooftop and it will be me..." He looked at me with hope - "Would you take me to the station now?"

This is mine! (A true object of desire)

Oxford Street was shut from Oxford Circus up to Marble Arch tube station. As usual some people waited patiently on the bus stops God knows what for. I had learnt long before that trying to persuade them made them haters. I stopped by New Bond Street. I was eating a pret-a-manger sandwich, both triangular pieces at once, for I was hungry and always liked falafel. One of the workers, hanging those winter time embellishments over Oxford Street, approached me and asked where did I get that sandwich from. I told him i brought it with me to work. He smiled with resignation and was gone. Minutes later two guys asked me to take them to Queensway. I named my price and one of them walked away immediately. The other started to haggle, demanding a lower price and... what was left of my sandwich! I gave him both. The first one watched him with astonishment, added that he himself wasn't paying a shit and finally joined him on my trike. They wanted to stop by a cashpoint. So I did. The one with the sandwich asked me to hold it for him for a while, stepped towards the hole-in-the-wall, suddenly turned around and said to his mate that they had to share the fare fifty-fifty. They started to argue and the second guy walked away again, this time for good. The one who said he was actually paying, looked at me and showing sad leftovers of what once was a delicious sandwich uttered: "This is mine!" Grabbed it and followed his mate. I wasn't able to believe it not to mention taking any action at all...

How your pride makes you poor

I took those three girls to that trendy club. We agreed the price, it was £6 per person. When we got there one of them passed me £25, in front of the other two . Pleasantly surprised I accepted the money. Still hesitating, with the money in my hand, I gave her an incredulous look and asked: "Is it for me?" She said "Yes" and I pocketed the notes, very pleased. The girls where gone and I just stayed there for a little while, straightening the blanket on passenger's seat etc. As I was about to move on I realised that two of those girls were actually standing next to me again. "We gave you too much money. It was a mistake." I couldn't fucking believe it. "First of all it wasn't you who paid me, and secondly, beyond any doubt the money was given to me. The whole amount. I double checked." "We made a mistake counting. Plus that money was ours as well. We shared the payment." "Well, is it my problem?" They were calling the girl who paid me to join them but she didn't want to come over. Finally the one who started all that mess said that clearly I wanted to rip them off. It was a bit too much. "Who am I?" - that question appeared inside my head - "Am I desperate to keep that bitch's money?!?" I got £20 from my pocket."You know what?" - I said loudly and stuck the note in her hand - "FUCK OFF!" I drove off and got next lift immediately.

Like a black man

As I was getting through a dark little street a saw a large group of black teenagers coming my way. We got closer to each other and one of them pointed me out with his finger: "You are working like a black man!" "You all right guys?" I asked, rather automatically. "SHUT UP!!!" - they shouted as one, poking very mean faces and carried on walking...

Wifey

That night was very quiet. I just got into Regent St. from Oxford Circus. Before I went as far as Great Marlborough St. I was stopped by an Asian woman in her mid forties. She asked me about Blues Bar. I said I could take her there but she preferred to walk. She added her husband was a musician and he was performing there that night. She also told me, that she was quite worried as she couldn´t get in touch with him. Apparently his mobile wasn´t working. I tried to explain to her where that venue was but she couldn´t quite grasp it. I got no lifts at all in a good while. I was quite bored and cold and I wasn´t making money anyway. I decided to take her there for free. By the way it was just around the corner. We got there in no time. The bar was already shut. I saw light inside and I knocked at the window. A member of stuff was still there. That lady asked him about her husband explaining the whole situation. The guy gave her a funny look. He said her husband played there indeed but was gone already about an hour ago. He looked at her with kind of a pity. Something told me that he wasn´t telling her the entire truth... Woman looked really worried. I felt sorry for her too. I could imagine that her bastard husband was taking advantages after his concert, leaving her on her own like that... She asked me if I knew where St. Giles Hotel was. I said I was taking her to her hotel, no charge. She protested and gave me 20 euros. When we got to St.Giles she was very sad. She thanked me and said: "I hope my husband is already in our room..." I wished her that solemnly, thinking how unlikely it was...

Tony's story about legs

A fellow rider, Bohemian from Brasil named Tony' told me this story. One night he was approached by two gents and asked for a lift. One of them had a cast on his leg. Having a leg in a cast doesn't diminish your weight though. Tony gave them a regular price. They didn't like too much. The one without the cast started to complain. "Look" - he said - "Me and my friend we've got serious problems with our legs and you don't seem at all considerate!" The rider looked at him in amazement and said: "Sorry sir, but you seem to be just fine!" "Hmm... You really think so, son?" Guy pulled up one of his trouser-legs exposing an artificial limb. Tony, feeling remorseful, gave them a discount...

A perfect worker

I started quite early that night. Getting through Oxford St. I saw that guy, just standing on the corner with Dean St. which was shut to the traffic on that end, due to constructing new Tottenham Court Rd. tube station. So he was basically standing alone, black clad and by the way rather smartly dressed. I stopped and asked whether he was looking for any place to have a drink at or if he needed any directions etc. He said he was good and I just moved on. I recall seeing him standing there once o twice more as I kept going in circles. Nevertheless I was really surprised to see him there still, several hours later. It was around 4am. The streets were already pretty empty and I simply couldn't believe my eyes. I stopped there again and exclaimed: "Unbelievable! You've been standing here all night!" He smiled shyly and protested weakly. "Come on! I've seen you!" I didn't give up. "Are you lost or something? Feeling unhappy?" "No!" He laughed and show me the nearby construction site with his hand. "I work for them..." We wished each other a good night and I moved on, laughing to myself like a village idiot.

Give me all that change!

That night was very quiet. It was the reason why I agreed to take those young couple from Oxford Circus to Hilton on Park Lane so cheaply. Those guys were in their early twenties and seemed nice and friendly. As I was about to start that lift some frustrated black cab driver, clearly with no social life, nearly run us over, his engine yelling, his face screwing up fiercely. Notwithstading I got to Maddox Street, then to Grosvenor Sq. I passed through Park Lane and as I approached Hilton hotel they told me to carry on into those tiny lanes placed between Curzon St. and Piccadilly. A few moments later we stopped in front of a splendid building. It had a cosy reception on its ground floor. The boy and the girl got off my trike. He produced a handsome wad of cash, handed one note to me and demanded a fiver change. I realised that I only had about two pounds change on me. Not even two one pound coins... One 50p and a lot of a petty change... I felt like an idiot so I moved towards the entrance saying that I could surely change that note in the reception. "This is not a hotel!" - said that girl as she gave me a harsh look - "THIS IS OUR APARTMENT!" "I'm really sorry guys, but apparently I've got only around two pounds change.." "How much?" The guy was watching me leerily. "Have you got a five pounds note?" - asked the girl. "Look guys - maybe there's an open shop around. I'll take you there for free and we'll change the money..." "It's too late! Everything is already shut." - answered that guy gravely. "Have you got a five pounds note?"- repeated the girl like a parrot. "I told you I didn't..." I held all my change in my hand. Boy gave me an angry look and ordered: "Give me all that change!" He caught it, turned his back on me and they walked off very offended.

Good listener

I was on Regent St. A guy approached me and said: "Bruv! Give me a free lift to Piccadilly Circus! I'm homeless and I've got foot infection! That's why I'm not comfortable to walk!" I recognised him straight away. "You know, last time I saw you, you were a lost and robbed student from ... As for the infection I'm recommending you that athlete foot powder, you can buy it pretty cheap in Tesco!" "I'm telling the truth! I used to study in ... but now I've been homeless for two weeks... It's not my fault you see.. The infection is a result of having my shoes on all the time..." His speech was very convincing and his slightly stoned eyes shone with intelligence. "Nobody can be homeless unless he wants it. You are young, you are not stupid, you've got hands and legs..." "I know! Forget the lift! I just want to talk to you for a while." I was cycling slowly down the road and he kept walking next to me on the pavement. "I'll tell you the truth! I used to live in London before, for about twelve years. I got connected with some dangerous people. You know: plastic cards fraud, drugs etc. I was doing things for them across UK. Finally I wanted to quit. The thing is though, that such a thing is not possible. They always come back to you and you can't refuse them. You know too much about their business. If they get in any trouble with the Police, knowing that you are quitting they would think you grassed up on them and they will eliminate you. I was determined to separate from them. I wanted to study. I finished some collage. My grades weren't that good, but I managed to enroll in University of... I come from a wealthy family. Back home my father has three houses and a store in a big shopping center. All that is rented. Since I open my eyes for the thirst time I always had anything I wanted." I stopped now in the beginning of Brewer St. "Don't get upset!" He asked me. "I just want to tell you all this for I haven't spoken with anybody for a while and you are a good listener... I was studying in ... for five years. Finally my grandma died and I started to do drugs again. Hard drugs. You know what is a Speedball? I was injecting as well... Before, in London I managed to hide all that shit I was doing from my mom. She didn't know anything. In ... I lost control. I dropped from university. Finally I overdosed and was in hospital in coma for three days. When I woke up I saw my mom by my bed crying. She just couldn't understand how come things turned up this way. I promised her it won't happen again. I got back to university. I kept doing drugs though. I also spent money on girls etc. I dropped from university again. Now all the profit my father was making back home was split between me and my brother. It was good money but we kept asking for more and more. Finally my mother lost her patience. She said that the amount they send us monthly was enough to provide for 6 - 7 people back home. I decided to be self-dependent. My mom has a three bedroom house in London in a decent area. I came back to London but I was too proud to stay with her. I wanted to make my own living. Through some family connections I got a job. I checked adverts in a few offlicences and I found a very cheap one bedroom flat, not far from my mom's place. I thought it was a mistake for the price was only a £100 per week. I called that number and I got an appointment with that guy. I arrived to that address and the guy was waiting for me. He had a fat BMW and wore an expensive looking suit. He showed me that flat. It was small but newly refurbished and clean. I said to him that for sure there was a mistake about price and he answered that the price was correct. We filled in tenancy agreement, checked all the meters and called all the suppliers to give them my details. I owed him £800 - £400 for the first month and £400 as a deposit. I needed to extend my overdraft limit to get that much but my bank agreed to it. I thought I was sorted. I went to work, came back home, cooked something, went to sleep. Next day I went to work again, when I came back home there was some guy in there. He saw me and asked: 'Who the fuck are you?!' 'I'm the tenant, who the fuck are you?!' 'I'm the landlord!' 'No you are not!' We went to a Police station. Apparently that crook came to the true tenant, with his expensive looking suit on and driving his fat BMW. He wanted to rent that flat but he said he was in trouble. He took that landlord to a hole-in-a-wall and showed him seven grand in his account. Than he presented him a fake letter with Metropolitan Police logo on it, saying that his account was frozen due to him receiving a big transfer from abroad. It seemed like he was a victim of some anti money laundering procedure. The landlord believed him and gave him two weeks to sort that out and to catch up with the rent.
The cheat was already known in the area. Someone even got his number plate details but car turned out to be rented. I had no place to go so I slept in a park that night. When I woke up my golden chain, my watch, my I Phone and £90 from my wallet were all gone. I tried to get a benefit but I missed an appointment - I got there only seven minutes late! So here I am. Only my brother knows about it. My mom thinks I'm in ... She's abroad now, visiting her sister. I told you she had that three bedroom flat in London. I've got a key to it. I go there twice a week just to take a shower. I went to see a doctor and I got registered as a drug addict. He said my addiction was very light. I got a methadone prescription. Only 20 mil daily. It's all right. When I need money I just beg. Yesterday in six hours I made £180! I spent all that on drugs and girls... I'm here, you see, just to get out of it. Drugs keep me warm and make me feel good on the street, time is passing faster." I moved on and he kept walking by my side. Finally I saw some guys and went to ask if they were looking for anything. Minutes after I spotted him walking down the road with another crackhead.

Honest man

It was after 3am. I was hanging around Soho as usual. It was a weekday night and at that time everything was already very quiet. Too quiet. On Wardour St. I spotted a streetwalker talking to some guys. They exchanged a few words with her and went on. There were two of them. I approached them and asked if they looked for anything. They said that a nice place to have drink would do. After 3am nearly everything was already shut. I told them that and added that they got two options left over. A stripbar or that club on South Central St. - The Den. One of them, an American judging by his accent, started some peculiar talk about how a combination of tits, pussy and anus would successfully replace a woman as such. He declared he would like to create a sculpture like that. His friend, a posh English boyo, wasn´t too happy to pay an entrance fee to get into a stripclub. They just stood there yattering. Suddenly some guy looked through a widow on first floor of a building near by. Checked us out, waved and disappeared behind a curtain. "Hey dude!" - American wanted to socialise - "don´t go!" "Why does he leave the windows open anyway? It´s cold!" - He wondered loudly. I advised him to stop it before they start to throw things at us. Then some other guy approached. He said he was from ..., he was robbed, and he was a student, he presented some IDs and obviously asked for some spare change. They refused him politely. The gringo finally made up his mind. "K´mon!" he addressed his friend - "Let´s get on that thing and let´s see where it will take us!¨ Dandy reluctantly got on my trike and uttered:

"Now take us somewhere we can have fun and if you don´t we´ll beat shit out of you!" Very quickly I got off and faced him. "Ok! You better beat me now!" The American guy got pretty scared. "Let´s just get off!" - he said to the other. Boyo answered that he was joking. I told him not to talk to me like that. He apologised and then he added that he even used to ride "one of these things" once himself, for about half an hour.Finally we moved on. By Oxford Street they asked me how much was the lift. I said I wasn't charging them yet and asked which one of those two mentioned places they preferred. They chose The Den. On the way they went on how guilty they felt about me pedalling while they remained seated and how much they appreciated that. After a little while we got there. Boyo passed me a can of beer. I said I would prefer a fiver per person than a beer. He produced a tenner from his wallet, hesitated and said it was outrageous. I asked what he meant. He said he got an impression that the lift was for free and that me myself had said that. I asked him what was his occupation. He said he was a programmer. I inquired if he ever enjoyed doing his job for free. He answered that I was wasting his time. Some people gathered up around us watching the scene with curiosity. I told him he was a bloody cheat but nevertheless, I added, I wasn't desperate. If he thought it was all right then he should just fuck off. He started to walk off eagerly calling his American friend to follow. Now I must admit the other guy didn't like it. He wanted to pay me. Unfortunately he had only a fiver on him. He tried to give it to me. "Yeah! Take a fiver!" - agreed the tight programmer. I said that I wasn't asking for a change and offered him a free lift to a cashpoint. Finally he followed his dickhead friend. "Be careful! He will fuck you up as well, soon!" - I said to him. "I'm an honest man!" - protested the boyo loudly. Off they went.

Racist "joke"

On Saturday night I was watching four lads on Regent St. The guys were in their late twenties. They wanted to get a minicab and go somewhere. I guessed it was a rather distant place for they didn't seem happy at all with prices named by those Asian drivers waiting by Heddon St. They kept passing from one to another. I couldn't hear what was said but suddenly one of them stepped back from a driver he was talking with and shouted: "What?!!! £35??!!! Your father was driving an elephant, bruv!!!" Off they went...

Dutch courage

Late in the night or maybe very early in the morning Wardour St. swarms with a wild life. Tonight I just saw there those two dodgy guys discussing loudly. I heard one of them exclaiming: "You've got to decide which side you are on!!!" The same moment I saw that freaky geezer talking loudly to himself. First I couldn't make out what was he saying. Finally I got it: "I GOT NO FEAR!" Some other guy, ignoring his own girlfriend who clearly was trying to stop any verbal exchange with that nutter, shouted to him: "So you are not scared of me?" Soliloquizer stepped off a few paces: "Fear is the key, mate! I'm not scared of you while I'm walking away..." He produced a flask of whiskey, took a sip and stated: "I need some dutch courage!"

A tenner back

Once I met a couple who wanted to get from around Leicester Sq. station to around Bond St. tube. They were in their late twenties. That guy was haggling a lot. His beautiful girlfriend tried to persuade him to stop it but he was a hard nut to crack... Finally he got satisfied with a bargain and we hit the road. We got there and quite unexpectedly he gave me a big tip. Both of them looked very pleased. They told me they enjoyed the journey very much. Suddenly that woman came close to me and ordered a quick good bye kisses. I understood she wanted to kiss me on a cheek but she went straight for my lips. Before I got any time to react she smooched me and also attempted to apply some tongue action. I stepped back quickly and gave her boyfriend a nervous look. He, obviously, wasn´t too enthusiastic about it, but nevertheless, he said very quietly: "Just give us a tenner back and take her with you."

GLC

It actually just happened. I took a guy from Oxford St. to Victoria Station. I soon as we got there he jumped off my trike, looked at me at said: "That's sweat on your forehead, right? You are working hard! I want to ask you a favor! Have you got a pen?" Somehow I knew already what was in store.
"You've got no money, right?" "Well, I've got only six pounds for me train home." I was rather upset. "You take a fucking piss!" "Listen! Just write down your phone number for me and I will give you your money tomorrow! I know you work hard!" I looked at him and said: "You are lucky I'm not a nutter cause nothing would actually stop me right now..." "I know! Look..." He took a goldie looking chain off his neck and passed it over to me. "I owe you just a couple of quid. This is worth at least £150! Keep it until I'll pay you!" Being sure that it was but a useless gimcrack I accepted it anyway thinking about my collection of track suits. It rose my spirits somehow. We shook hands. "Don't lose my chain!" He shouted and was gone. I'm wearing it right now. It's heavy. Finally I'm a geezer! LOL

Drowsy

A guy just sat on my trike when I stopped in red light on Oxford Circus. He was shitfaced. "Pall Mall number one!" He ordered. I demanded money upfront. He showed me his debit card. The nearest cashpoint was very close. I stopped over there and asked him to pick up his cash. He didn't move and seemed to fall asleep. I was on a bus stop on Regent St. I didn't want just to kick him out for I was pretty sure he would say I attacked him. I tried to talk to him but he didn't even open his eyes. I saw a police van and tried to wave it down but they ignored me. Finally I caught my rickshaw by handlebar and shook it violently. That impressed him enough to take a look around. I told him quickly that my trike was not a place to sleep and showed him cashpoints nearby. He got off and stayed there. I wasn't disappointed.

Soldier's pride

I started early that day. After a couple of hours I wanted to get a break. There's a 24h Tesco Express by Russel Sq. station. I went there, bought some food and parked around a corner. As I was eating I saw two guys, about forty years old, who were clearly looking for something. I just wanted to eat and rest a bit, so I was hoping they would not see me. They saw me all right. "Mate! How much to take us to a nearest kebab shop?" I explained that they should go either to Leicester Sq. or Kings Cross and that it would cost them £5 per person, either way too. "We give you £15 to take us to Kings Cross and then back to Generator." I politely said that I'd rather stay there and rest. One of them didn't like it at all. "Yesterday we came back from Afghanistan, you know?" "Well, that's your job. And this is my job." "But you are not doing anything at the moment!" "Ok! If you give me some more money, let say £9 each, I'll take you to Kings Cross, wait for you and then take you to your hostel." "No! We can give you only £15!" "Then I will stay here." "We'll give you £8 to take us to Kings Cross then, and later we will take a cab to Generator." I still had a large piece of mozzarella in my hand and its bag wasn't resealable. I quietly said I would do it only for a tenner. Finally he walked off, pretty offended.

One who paid

A very streetwise homeless was trying to sell me three boom stands. I didn't really wanted to buy them and he started a horrible balderdash. I had no idea how to break free. That very moment two young lads asked me to take them to Old St. I demanded money upfront and one of them paid me eagerly. They asked if I wanted to smoke a spliff. I said: "No, thanx."I got them there quickly. They offered me some MDMA on the way but I refused politely. In the roundabout they asked me to carry on, promising me some more money for that. Apparently they were heading to some squat party. Soon they wanted to stop by an offlicense. The other ran to the shop and the one who paid stayed with me. He took out his mobile and said: "I had an I phone and then I lost it and then I had another I phone and I lost it too. Luckily my girlfriend gave me this one! What phone have you got?" "Oh! I've got some shit phone, look!" I showed him my handset. "Hmmm..." He gave it a critical look - "I had even a worse one then this but then my girlfriend gave me that one. I'm sooooo happy she did! I'm losing a phone nearly every week, you know?" He looked around and added: "You know, I think the other guy steals them from me when I'm stoned... I don't trust him!" The other one came out of a shop, on the other side of the road. My interlocutor put index finger on his lips. The other got closer. "For the first time in my life they didn't want to sell alcohol to me! Let's go further down, there's another shop! And please stop by a cashpoint!" His mobile rang. He picked that up and talked shortly. "This phone is a shit!" He concluded. "Probably it was mine ten minutes ago, anyway!" Added the one who paid. The other gave him a funny look. "What are you talking about, man!?" We moved on. We found a hole in a wall. The one who paid stayed with me. He got his mobile out and asked me: "Can you send a multiple message to fifty people at once with your phone?" "Look mate, I don't know! I've never tried... I need my phone to wake me up when I need to and to ring when somebody is calling me...." The other guy was back. "Shiiit!!! I forgot my debit card was fucked! Look, can you pay the man later and also buy some ciders?" He addressed the one who paid before. "I will give you your money back, well my girlfriend will..." We moved on again and stopped by another offlicense. "Do you want anything?" Asked me the one who had no money. I said I was good. "So where are we going now?" "Oh! Take a left here!" Told me the smart one. After a while he decided that we were lost and should get back. "Oh really?" The one who paid was surprised. "Of course!" Smiled the smart one. "You told the man to go left. I thought it was wrong from the beginning but I didn't say anything..." After a while we got to East Rd. I was asked to follow it. Finally they decided that was it. It looked to me like a middle of nowhere but what did I know? I said they should give me £15 more. The one who paid before produced a fiver and some petty change. "Actually I would like to give you this..." "Come on man! Give me at least a tenner!" "Give him a tenner! I'll share it with you later!" Said the smart one. So the other one did. I was pedalling hard, eager to leave those council estates far behind me.

Chat up line

I was going down Regent St. As I was passing by a bus stop I saw two fit lasses sitting there. That very moment a car slowed down on my right and a guy shouted through open window, obviously adressing the girls:
"WOOOOOOOW! You are so fucking sexy!!!"
Not getting much response from them he added:
"Sorry..." and drove off. How desperate one can get?! ;~)

A guy who wanted to help

I was on Regent St. when I spotted a couple. A gorgeous, yet very drunk blond woman leaning against a guy who was trying to make her walk straight. He clearly got enough of it for he stopped me, made her sit on my trike and got in himself. Immediately they were joined by another hot blondie, that one pretty sober, who told me to go to Montague St. That guy looked very contented while sitting between them. He kept wooing the shitfaced one all the time. "So am I sleeping in your bed tonight, darling? I left all my cousins to help you, innit?!" It didn`t take a genius to realise that they were complete strangers and he basically tries to get into her pants. Sadly enough that woman was in a very poor shape. Likely she even passed out. Apparently the other woman was her friend and they stayed in a hotel room together. Suddenly the first one started to throw up. Luckily she managed to vomit outside my vehicle, some of it got on a side of the body though. The rascal seeing that exclaimed: "Don`t worry! I`ll pay you extra! Just stop by a cash point!" He was bullshitting both of them now with a huge amount of stupidities. It was very hard to listen to it.
As soon as I got to a cash point he protested: "No! No! I need Lloyds! I can`t get my cash here!" "Why not?" One of the ladies was surprised. I knew already that he was lying. He asked me to go around to find a Lloyds branch. I said it was a fiver more and went on. Soon he informed me that ladies got money to pay me so we can go directly to their hotel... Nevertheless I had to go in circles and it was his fault. The drunk one`s teeth were rattling. That didn`t stop the scum. "So you`re letting me stay, innit?!" The other woman answered quickly: "What, in our room?! No!" "But she said..." He indicated the drunk one. Apparently she sobered off somewhat. "I didn`t say that!" "Oh, so that`s how women are! I helped you and now..." Women didn`t listen to him, they paid me and walked away. Immediately he tagged along some bypassers and started to bullshit them... I drove off.

4 am

It was 4 am. I sat down on my trike in front of Little Italia and Bar Italia on Frith St. Little Italia was already empty. Lights inside were on. Two posh vamps in their forties stood outside smoking ciggies while luringly exposing plunging necklines. Bouncers, minicab drivers and everyone else, except for two gents silently maintaining embrionyc positions on the pavement a bit further on the left, were very excited. Those two didn`t seem to care much. They kept laying quietly in pools of their own urine. Bouncers managed to wake up one of them. He stood up, took a few tottery steps and collapsed again. Suddenly a rickshaw full of people stopped by Bar Italia and three hustlers jumped off straight on the pavement, like a bunch of ogres from Warcraft II during a beach landing.
They saw women and immediately moved towards them. However, before the intruders stood a chance to open their mouths one of the women said quickly amd loudly: "No, no no guys! You`re not buying us anything, selling us anything or anything else!" Chaps didn`t expect that warm a welcome, therefore weren`t too loquacious. "Okay!" - ordered the lady - "just tell us, everyone in turns, what is that you want. You first!" The chosen one started to mumble something about champagne, himself being that many years old and alike rubbish. The second one talked only rubbish. The third one remained silent. A bouncer said something to them in a low voice and I saw them leaving the stage. Next entered an ambulance. The crew woke up one of the drunks and somehow made him throw up. Clearly that made him good! The second one was put on a stretcher and taken inside emergency vehicle. Soon they carried him away. "Mamma mia!" - exclaimed a waiter wachting the whole process. Women got in a car. Burlesque was over.

Jon is hot

I came out pretty late. It didn`t escape ever vigilant Amir`s notice. "Oh! You coming out THAT late again!" I quickly introduced him to people around as a true champion. He told me to shut up and was gone. Shortly afterwards I met Monty. He was as usual in trouble. A guy from a corner shop didn`t want to exchange his drink for another one, once he purchased it. That made him quite unhappy and of course he managed to get his money back but the guy told him "don`t buy here". He was thirsty though, so he gave me some change and asked me to buy that other drink for him... On Old Compton St. Hugo was, as always, fighting with preponderant forces of hustlers. He knocked flat one of them and escaped quickly. They ran after him yelling: "Smash him!" Police showed up as soon as they disappeared. A little while later one guy offered me money to have sex with him. I did my best to answer him politely. He rose to the occasion and said that as a matter of fact he just wanted to pay for a lift. In any case he didn`t. On Charring + Rd I saw a young, shitfaced lad lifting up vigorously quite a big girl. That attempted tour de force didn`t quite work. Immediately he lost his balance, fell on his back and she landed on top of him flashing her white panties. I couldn`t stop myself from laughing loudly. "What are you laughing at?!!!" I heard his drunk and angry voice from underneath her :D
I kept cruising around eating banana. A girl approached me. "Are you eating a banana?! Unbelievable! When I cycle I can never focus on anything else than cycling itself!!!" "Rickshaw has three wheels. That makes it much easier, you know?" "I am so stupid!" She suddenly exclaimed. "Why?" "I kissed my best friend and I know he fancies me! We we`ve been together to the concert of Bon Jovi. (Jon is sooooo hot!!! Don`t you think so?! Oh! It`s just out of question - he`s sooooo hot!!!) And that friend of mine wanted to kiss me and I let him!" "Did you kiss with tongues?" "YES!" "Did you enjoy it?" "Yes!" "Then what`s wrong about it?" "I don`t know... I just do so many stupid things recently..." "So who else did you kiss lately?" "Erm... No one... Well... My friend`s boss. I was pissed though. And he split with his girlfriend... but now they are back together..." I was hundred percent sure I didn`t want to kiss her. Finely she was gone to catch her bus...
My last lift was with two young bitches who kept arguing all the time. "I paid the drinks! You have to pay the man!" "K`mon I paid the entrance fee!" "And last week it was me who was paying!" "It`s the last time I go out with you!" "Don`t make a scene!" And so on, or even worse, no end! Three "holes in a wall" didn`t work. The fourth one saved me. I felt very relieved when it was over.
Was all that really full moon`s fault?

Evil

Working nighttime on the streets of London is obviously not shelling peas. No one expects anything else but to see human nature clear and true. High with a little help from their friends, people eagerly forget constraints of civilisation. Many don`t even need any booze or such, being born barbarians. Keep your eyes peeled and you`ll see things. Come closer and you will touch darkness. Well, to be more precise it will touch you.

Wolfpack

Once, waiting by Tottenham Court Rd station, I saw a chap in his thirties. He was a big guy but rather plump than muscular. He was coming from Charring Cross Rd. In his eyes I saw sheer panic. First I thought he was only on drugs. Soon I realised he was fleeing. There was a bunch of dodgy looking teenagers hemming him in. He wasn`t runnig. They weren`t shouting. Methodically closing the cirlce they kept following him in silence.The guy was shitting himself. Panting and sweating he was attempting to break free. The hunters though, knew their job very well and the hunted stood no chance to escape. I could not tell what was that all about. Strange company passed in front of me and disappeared around the corner...

A joke

When you ride a trike you seat in front of your customers who face your back (unless it`s a frontloader, but not too many of them are to be seen nowadays on the streets of London).
A fellow rider told me this story. It was a rainy night so he wore a waterproof jacket with a hood on. It affects your hearing. He took two seemingly respectful gents to a decent hotel. On the way they kept laughing boisterously. He asked them once or twice if everything was okay and was just told to keep pedalling. A while after the job was finished he discovered that all the back of his jacket was covered with spittle. He realised they were spitting at him through all the ride and clearly that made them so happy...

A lighter

One night as I was cycling to pick up my trike from the garage I went through Old St. I saw a rickshaw carrying three people, moving opposite direction. A rider was working his way uphill and I could tell he was struggling. Suddenly one of the guys lighted up his cig and then started to burn jacket on riders back. Poor bastard had no idea what was going on. The sad thing was that with a heavy traffic on that road nobody from any car said anything to the villain. I made a U turn, got closer to the trike and told rider about it. The dickhead who did it started to shout at me that I was a lier and should fuck off. The worst thing of all was that the driver didn`t say or do anything. He was one of those new Asian riders. After a while he just started again and went away together with those cunts...

Work permit

On another night I saw another one of those Asians stopped on Oxford St. , talking to some lads. He waved me down and I thought he just wanted directions. His English was very bad and for a good while I couldn`t comprehend what was going on. He said the two guys asked for his ID. "They say I`m foolish!" He stated. Two fellows watched me in rather heavy silence. "Can anybody just tell me what`s going on?" One of them quickly approached the Asian boy, huged him and kissed him on the cheek. Then he produced a tenner and passed it to him. They sat down on his trike and asked him to carry on. He thanked me and moved on. A bit later I saw him again. "They are false people!" Piece by piece he put the story together. He took those men from Cambridge Circus. On Oxford St. they got off and demanded a work permit from him... They didn`t want to pay him otherwise. That was the moment when I arrived. Bastards!

Counterfeit

Once two fellows an a lass came to me asking to take them to a quite distant place. There were three of them, they wanted to go far and they looked suspicious. I demanded £35 upfront. I was sure they would tell me where to go and disappear. They payed me eagerly though and we moved on. On the way the boys kept playing with me a bad and a good cop and the girl was giggling foolishly. With the money in my pocket I didn`t give a straw. As we were approaching our destination they became nicer and nicer and finely started to tell me that I had done a great job so they had to tip me. By the end of it I was pretty knackered but I felt satisfied. They were taking some pics of themselves on the rickshaw with their mobiles, thanking me a lot etc. One of the lads asked me for a tenner and gave me another £20 note. After wishing me best of luck they were gone. Soon afterwards I discovered that those people were really skilled in art of deception and that, as a matter of fact I went to there for a fiver... Both £20 notes were fake! Once I knew a teacher who kept saying that he could never comprehend why Pallas Athena favoured and protected "that rotter", son of Laertes, so much...

Drunk or drugged to the point of going out of their minds abuse themselves in first place. How about those who consciously don`t respect a hardworking fellowman? What about people who cynically abuse you pretending to be friendly and sympathetic? Are they happy? Do they feel satisfied with their lifes? Or maybe, knowing very well that they`re nothing but shit themselves, they just want to make other people feel like shit? Does it help? Do they trust each other more afterwards? I doubt it...

One hundred pounds

I stopped in Wardour St. not far from Village, that gaybar. A guy came running, jumped on my trike and exclaimed:"GO! GO!" I looked at him with disapproval and asked:"But where are we going?" "Just go! Please! I`ll give you one hundred pounds!" I moved on eagerly. "Please! Move faster!" "What is it? Is anybody chasing you?" "Yes! A bunch of Pakistanis wants to beat me up thinking that I`m an American!" I could hear that twang in his voice too. "In fact I`m Canadian but they didn`t want to listen to me!" We were approaching Oxford St. undisturbed. "So where are we going?" I asked. "Could you take me to St. Paul`s Cathedral? I`ll honestly pay you one hundred pounds!" I cracked on pedalling. Quickly I got to Strand. As I was getting to Waterloo Bridge one of the axles got broken. Cursing my bad luck I apologised to my customer for not being able to take him any further. He was very grateful anyway and he handed me out five twenty pounds notes. I told him not to be silly and accepted only forty quid. I reproach myself for that ever since...
:)

Foot fetish

A fellow rider took his customer to a decent hotel. It was clear from the very beginning that the guy was gay. On the way he said to that rickshaw rider that he liked his feet. Upon their arrival to hotel customer paid the man and then presented him his very special offer. He said he would give him eight hundred quid if he let him lick his feet. When rider wasn`t very enthusiastic about it, the poor guy suggested another option. He wrote his phone number and e-mail adress on a twenty pound note and said he hoped that the fellow would make up his mind. In any case he gave him one hundred and fifty pounds asking for an email with three pics of his bare feet. Driver pocketed the money and said that possibly they could make another deal. The perv was all ears. "I can sell you my sox!" "For how much?" "Two hundred each!" "Hmmm... That`s expensive." Nevertheless he just couldn`t stop himself... Honestly, wasn`t it an advantageous purchase?!

Cheeky blowjob

The nights on every Bank Holiday are always the same. Some say it's the time when all the rich people are gone abroad. Some others add that on those nights East End meets West End. Rickshaw riders from South America call them noches de pendejos. Seriously bruv, that indicates loads of fun!
On a night like this one guy on Oxford St. was arguing with his girlfriend. He clearly ran out of arguments cause he violently toppled a big, modern and sophisticated dustbin and then kept kicking phonebooths, road signs, fences and anything else he could. People in general were enjoying the show, however somebody, giggling, adviced him not to be so macho. His girlfriend though, rose to the occasion. In no time we could see her slapping his face vigorously. He really needed those caresses.
I watched the whole situation with a senior rider Monty. Afterwards he told me: "You know, Hitler was a lunatic who oftentimes went furious. It was reported that on one occasion he was bitting a carpet! That`s why people who knew about it used to call him Teppichfresser - a carpet eater!"
Two guys waved me down. One of them asked: "How much to Clapham?" The other one wanted to know where the prostitutes were. When I asked what was that they really wanted, I heard: "A cheeky blowjob!" I gave them directions to the best of my knowledge.
Dawn broke over Greek St. Popular hip-hop/r'n'b Moonlighting Nightclub was kicking out. Crowd of raving hustlers needed excitement. Somebody slapped a girl and a serious riot broke out. The fight was spectacular. An Italian girl watched them with curiosity. She reached a conclusion that sounded something like: Massa di cabri!

Streetwalker

Once I stopped by the corner of Old Compton St. and Charring Cross Rd. I was approached by a boozed guy. In one hand he had a flagon of dark rum, in another one he carried a bottle of coca-cola and a plastic cup. He was merry and friendly. He said he was after some harlotry and asked me for directions. Quickly I took him to Peter St., where most of the brothels are. There was a girl standing on a pavement. He got off and went straight to her. I was gone about my business.
About an hour later I was passing through Wardour St. "You!" Somebody shouted accusingly. "YOU are working with them! WHERE IS SHE?!" Pretty bewildered I looked around just to see the same guy I took to Peter St. a while ago... He seemed to be quite sober now. Sober and very angry. Not quite getting what was just happening I asked him to cool down and tell me what occured. He said that as he was following that bird, suddenly he got surrounded by four lads who took his money, mobile, watch and liquor...
Compassionate, I took him for free to train station from where he could take a train home.

Optimistic

I went out in the afternoon! For me it was an achievement :~) I stopped by Covent Garden. Sun was shining, yet windy gusts kept reminding me how far are the tropics. She appeared out of nowhere. In her late forties, black clad, big sunglasses, bright red lipstick. I thought she wanted a lift but she just said: "It`s quite hot, isn`t it?" "Eh... Surely just for a while..." "You`ve got to be optimistic!" "Well, I saw a forecast..." "Yeah! So did I!" She showed me a jacket that she carried in her hand and laughed. "It must be tough on your legs." - she looked at my rickshaw. "One can easily get used to it." "How is the business, anyway?" I pulled a face. "Bad!" "You`ve got to be optimistic!" I smiled. "Is it working for you?" "Well, not for last two weeks, but yeah! You know, seven weeks ago I told myself - you have to get the best out of every day!" I watched her in silence. "I`m from Belfast. I came to London for this Welshman. Recently things turned ugly. You know, domestic violence..." "I`m sorry!" "Well, I wasn`t too happy myself, believe me!" She chuckled. "The problem is, I still care for him..." She said softly, playing with her mobile. "I see."
A guy asked me about some restaurant, I never heard of. I admitted that to him and all three of us laughed. He was gone and she said: "I will tell you Good Bye in Irish, wait a second!" She looked down and raised her hand to her temple. Finelly she uttered a few rustling sounds. I smiled. "Nice!" We shook hands. "Take care!" "And you too!" She walked away.
Two teenage girls stopped next to me and asked: "Parlez-vous frances?"

To Old Street with a hottie

One night me and my mate we parked in Perry`s Pl by Oxford St chatting idly and waiting in vain. Time was passing coldbloodedly. Suddenly I saw a hottie. Tall, blond and absolutely fit she approached me and asked: "How much to Old Street?" A closer look revealed that in fact she was about forty years old. Nevertheless she was really good looking and most certainly very experienced as well. Not to mention her conspicuous shitfacedness. Unfortunately I was on duty that night and therefore I was expected somewhere else in about forty minutes. Considering that I didn`t feel like going as far as Old St. I tried to explain that to her. I also suggested that my mate would take her anywhere she likes. "Of what age are you?" - she smiled at me - "I`ll give you that much if you take me there." She named a round sum and I stopped hesitating.
We moved. Before we reached the bottom of New Oxford St she ordered: "Stop! Stop! I need to pee!" I turned left into Museum St to find a quiet place for her to discharge the bladder. She quickly jumped off my trike telling me neither to watch her peeing nor to go away with her purse. Fortunately I`m not much of a Peeping Tom, especially when it comes to drunk peeing women, or a thief. As we were carrying on towards Old St she tried to call someone a few times but clearly wasn`t answered. She left some whispering voicemail instead and it seemed to me that she was sobbing. After a while I got to the roundabout by Old St. station and we stopped there. "Take me a bit further!" she demanded sitting on my rickshaw. An experienced rickshaw rider knows all too well how elusive a term is "a bit further", therefore I asked her quickly: "Where about exactly?" "Just to Hackney Farm!" "Well, first of all I`m runnig late, you know, and secondly I would charge you more for that." "Come on! Take me home!" Her smile was full of spicey promises. Now that was a hard nut to crack! As I mentioned before, that night, I had things to do and places to go... Actually I was late already. Her invitation, however tempting, was unacceptable. "I`ll stop a black cab for you!" I said. I managed to wave down two. She didn`t move. I explained my situation. She didn`t care. I started to beg her. She kept smiling innocently. My position was pretty awkward. I was on duty and because of her I was proving to be negligent. We already spent there at least half an hour. She saw me growing uneasy. I did my best not to be rude but finally I said plainly that I was not taking her anywhere. She got very angry. "You didn`t even ask my phone number!" she sputtered. That said she walked away with passion, her fury manifesting itself in her every movement.

What`s your story?

Once an American, somewhat corpulent guy, asked me to take him from Old Compton St. to Edgware Rd. As soon as he got on my trike he asked me: "What`s your story?!" I told him something like: "The nights are dark and grim and so is my soul..." I guess it didn`t prove satisfactory for him, for he kept shouting this question to everybody we met on our way and people were looking at each other saying under their breaths: "Aha... An American!" After a while we got on Oxford St. At some point I needed to hit the breaks abruptly. My customer not expecting that, lost his balance, fell forward and landed on my back. Clearly it turned him on! He started to praise my strength, repeating how fuckin fit I am etc. Finally exclaimed: "You are hot like Beyonce!!!" I wasn`t quite sure if I should be thankful for this, a very uncomon indeed, compliment. Next he started to ask me if I had a girlfriend and didn`t seem to be very pleased hearing that I did. Notwithstanding he added quickly: "Is she also hot like Beyonce?" I told him she was not too bad at all.
When I eventually got him to his hotel he very much wanted to invite me for a drink but seeing that there`s no way to persuade me to it just said:
"Come here tomorrow with your girlfriend! We`ll ride around!!!"

Freezing

It was a long winter night. Temperature had gone so low that I felt guilty when offerring lifts to people. To my true astonishment and undisguised joy two Englishmen wanted me to get them to Victoria Coach Station. I didn`t let them ask twice for it. On the way we stopped in a red light, next to some fat car. Window by the back seat got open and a young fellow asked my customers with a sham of concern, his accent conspicuously American: "Aren`t you freezing, boys?!" One of the Britons answered quickly: "It`s better to be cold than to be a Yankee." There was much rejoicing...
;~)

Original nutter

Last night in Oxford St. I heard a woman screaming: "Stop it! Oh! Stop it!" It`s not what ladies usually shout in this area on a weekend nights so I looked in puzzelment in direction from where the voice came. I saw a short, skinny guy who was kicking a passing by rickshaw and then started to push it frantically from behind... It was his girlfriend that was screaming. The rickshaw rider was fleeing in horror. I drove there, stepped next to the nutter and asked him: "What did he do to you?" "He stepped off where he shouldn`t! And now you are doing the same!" He raised his clenched fist. "FUCK OFF!!!" he adressed me with bitter hate. His girlfriend was pleading him to cool down but he didn`t care. Indeed he was a wee size, but his eyes... He was possessed! Probably just mixed his usual dose of medicines with some liquor... The effect was imposing. Beyond any doubt I was dealing here with some serious supernatural powers. Completely awestruck I watched him in silence. He kicked my trike once and shouted: "You didn`t need this! FUCK OFF!!!" His woman kept begging him to stop it. Some guy who was just passing by, chewing on his nightly kebab, asked him what was happenning. He immediately turned towards him, his clenched fist raised high. Nevertheless the kebab consumer wasn`t impressed by stricking poses and they started some, rather peculiar, conversation. They were taking their time. I left them to it.

Let`s do some cocain!

I was going up Oxford St. and just passed Wardour St. on my left when I saw that guy. He waved me down. "How much to Manchester Sq.?" First I said "a tenner" but then I realised that there were two of them and I demanded eight quid per person. The other fellow got closer and said: "A tenner for two!" "Fifteen!" "Twelve!" "C`mon give me some more then twelve!" Finally we agreed fifteen. The one who approached me latter said something, before they even took a seat. It was too unclear to be understood. He said that again and again and finally I got it. "Get in with us for a one!" I said that it was very kind of him but I couldn`t. "C`mon, just for a one!" "I really appreciate your hospitality but I truly need to work!" Finally they were seated. On the way he kept insisting: "C`mon get in with us! I`d love to see you naked!" "I can`t do that! My girlfriend would be very upset with me!" He didn`t give up: "Oh! That doesn`t matter!" "That doesn`t matter for you cause you wouldn`t have to tell her that..." This stopped him for a little while. Not for too long though! "C`mon come with us! Just to have a drink!" We were getting close to our destination. "I`m not going to do that! I need money, therefore I need to work!" "I pay you!" "For the first time I turned around and looked at him. "I don`t like it at all, you know?!" It shut him up a bit. Finally we got to outside their place. The persistent one wanted a receipt. The other guy just thanked me and was gone. While I was looking for a receipt for him he kept talking. "Come on in! Let`s do some cocain!" "I don`t do cocain!" "Then let`s get some penis! I`ll give you a blow job!" I just burst with laughter. "C`mon don`t get mad at me!" - he carried on. "I`m not mad at you. You can say whatever you want..." "Give me a hug!" I gave him a well bear one. Quickly he kissed me on a cheek and finally follwed his mate.

On the run

I heard this story a few weeks ago. A rickshaw rider got a lift to somewhere with two gay boys. Once they reached their destination his customers took to heels. He managed to stop one of them. Somehow the police appeared. He tried to explain to officers that he was cheated. The fairy claimed though, that the rider harassed them sexually demanding a blowjob as a form of payment. Poor bastard got busted and spent whole night at the police station.

Like a tin of beans

Light just turned red. Me and a fellow rider, we had to stop in the corner of Ruppert St. and Shaftsbury Ave. That very moment we were approached by two lads. "All right!" - exclaimed one of them - "one pound to go to 101!" We ignored him completely. "Two pounds to go to 101!" was his next bid. Another rider was gone without a word. I looked the opposite direction. "This one`s got bigger legs!" - observed the older lad, the one who remained silent so far. The first one kept bidding: "We give you a fiver, if you take us to 101!" "You are very generous" - was my answer - "and I really appreciate that! However, I`d rather stay here - obviously if you don`t mind!" The older one looked at his mate: "He`s more English than both of us together!" He addressed me then:
"What would be a reasonable price for us to go to 101 Kitchen?" "I take you for eight quid." "Eight quid for both of us. It`s up to you!" - he looked at the bidder who didn`t protest, then he produced a tenner and asked me if I had two pounds change. He took it from me before handing out the note.
"You`ve got a very good cockney accent!" - the bidder spoke again. "Thank you! I`ve been practising..." "Let me tell you something! If someone gives you trouble just tell him: I will open you up like a tin of beans!" I smiled and showed him my rickshaw: "Would you like to take a seat?" He was about to say something more but the older one frowned and asked him: "Would you like to take a seat?" I moved quickly and soon we got to the lounge. "Thank you governor!" - the younger shook my hand. "This is for you!" - the one who payed before passed me a two pound coin. I wished them a good night, moved a bit down the road, then stopped and stuck down on a scrap of paper: "I will open you up like a tin of beans!" LOL

Tarot

Yesterday I saw this freaky Irish guy, hanging around with a very small doggy. Suddenly he approached two guys standing next to me. He had something in his hand. He showed that to one of them and said: "Pick up three cards." I realised that what he was holding were some rumpled tarot cards. The guy followed his instructions. "Okay! Now let me see them! Hm... This one says that you gonna meet some hot lady! Aha! This one tells me that there`s some serious money on it`s way to you! And the last one... This girl will be really in love with you, boy!" The guy seemed to be extremly pleased by this divination. The fortune-teller asked him quickly for any change. The guy gave him some eagerly. "C`mon! Tell me some more shit, man!" - he exclaimed in excitement.

April Fools

That`s what Plutarch says in "The life of Marcus Antonius" about his father Marcus Antonius Creticus: "...he was an honest man, and of a very good nature, and specially very liberal in giving [...]. He was not very wealthy, and therefore his wife would not let him use his liberality and frank nature. One day a friend of his coming to him to pray him to help him to some money, having great need, Antonius by chance had no money to give him, but he commanded one of his man to bring him some water in a silver basin, and after he had brought it him he washed his beard as though he meant to have shaven it, and found an errand for his man to send him out, and gave his friend the silver basin, and bade him get him money with that. Shortly after there was a great stir in the house among the servants, seeking out this silver basin. Insomuch as Antonius seeing his wife marvellously offended by it, and that she would examine all her servants one after another about it, to know what was become of it: at lenght he confessed he had given it away, and prayed her to be contented."
Well, I`m extremely happy not to be around while he was praying his wifey to be contented then...

The buzzer

Once I was stopped by a gent who said he was in a hurry on his way to Victoria station. I said I could take him there pretty fast and we got ourselves a deal. We moved on hastily. Every time we were supposed to stop in a traffic lights he was telling me: "Do the lights, mate! Do the lights! I`ll give you a tip!" On one occasion he also said something I couldn`t entirely understand, but it sounded like: "Normally I do (...) but tonight I don`t care!" Travelling in this blithe manner gave us a remarkable speed and as a result we got to Victoria really soon. He seemed to be very pleased. He got out his wallet and opened it to pay me. Then I saw a police badge inside of it. He tipped me as he promised, thanked me politely and was gone.

Spiky iron fence

I went out in the night time, as usual. Suddenly a bizarre sight drew my attention. I saw a pair of black people. She was standing on the pavement, laughing histerically and he was literarily lying, face down, on top of the spiky iron fence. I watched in amazement. I couldn`t understand what I was seeing. "Why should one lie like that, on top of the metal spikes? Does he enjoy himself? Is he comfortable?" All those questions occured to me at once. I stopped next to them and doublechecked. Beyond any doubt the guy was not a fakir. He looked at me and uttered weakly: "Man! Please help me!" Woman kept laughing. I got off my trike and stepped forward. He somehow managed not to get forked so far, but clearly was losing his strenght. I could smell alcohol on his breath. Fortunately he was not too big. Quickly I got him "off the hook". He was VERY gratefull. I moved on, looking forward to fighting dragons and setting princeses free.

Humility

I was really, really unlucky. I started relatively early but it took me quite a while before I got my first lift. Once I was done with it I carried on, pretty relieved and hoping that from now on it would be a routine rickshawriding night. Unfortunately it was the only lift I got. I went on, going in circles hour after hour, kept trying to talk to people, everything in vain. The tension in me was growing. I became more and more angry with myself. When one gets in a mood like this you don`t need to be a psychologist to guess what`s going on. Just one glance at his face will tell you - he`s upset. What do you do? It`s simple! You find a happier looking rider to carry you... I knew it was not about to help me at all, nevertheless I was fretting myself big time. As usual I forced myself to keep moving but I felt so miserable and helpless... As I got dangerously close to explode, unexpectedly I saw something very strange. I was going down the road at easy pace. Passing by one of the intersections I heard a woman shouting. I looked left quickly and... I saw a pair of my friends. Obviously they didn`t know I was there. They clearly went out clubbing but presently the girl was making a really nasty scene. I hardly caught a glimpse of the situation but it was more than enough to realise that the guy was in a shit neck deep. In a blink on an eye all my annoyance evaporated. I wasn`t bothered anymore! I felt very sorry for those friends of mine and really ashamed that my transitory setback made me feel so unhappy. Calmly I accepted my fate. A hint of humility makes miracles.

A wallet

I picked up those three lads on Oxford Street. They wanted to go to a kebab-house, that was just around the corner. The boys, in their early twenties, were really enjoing themselves. One of them suddenly stood up and exposed himself, freely waving his willey. All the ladies around were delighted. Everybody on the street went nuts cheering and screaming in approval. We kept traveling in style and soon we got to the food store. Lads carrying on with their horseplay pushed the half-naked one off the rickshaw. Having his legs hobbled by his put down pants he fell on the floor like a cadaver from an open wardrobe. His friends howling like a monkeys quickly jumped on top of him. All three of them were billowing on the floor screaming, laughing and cursing. This instant a guy who was just passing by joined them rapidly. It looked like he just liked it and wanted to play with them too. The whole action took no more than a blink of an eye. The starnger stood up and was gone immediately. One by one the young nutters were getting up too. The one who exposed himself earlier pulled his trousers up and suddenly realised that his wallet was gone. The pickpoket was fast. There was no trace of him already.

A kitten for free

Sunday night was most definitely over. By 4 am I was turning left from Old Compton St. into Charring Cross Rd, like milion times before, heading back to the base. When I was passing by this 24 h fastfood store somebody called on me:
"-Where you going?" - I turned around. A guy was stading on the pavement.
"-Where YOU wanna go?" - I got off and stood next to him.
"-Take us there, around the corner" - he indicated a general direction - "for two quid!"
There were two of them, both in their forties. One - a very tall and very drunk too, and the other, that just spoke - shorter, a bit more sober and, as it soon appeared, much more frustrated.
"-What place you`re going to?"
"-Listen, you can take us THERE for two quid or you carry on, wasting your time." - uttered the shorter one.
"-I`m sorry, but I need to know where you guys going, first. Are you looking for anything?"
"-We want pussy!" - they agreed quickly. The shorter looked at me duobtfuly:
" -But you`re gay! You not gonna know..."
I just laughed.
"-So you guys want some prostitutes, yeah?"
"-No!" - shouted the smaller one - " We want a pussy for free!!!"
"-We want a lively bar or a disco with girls..." - interposed the tall guy
"-Guys!" - I laughed again - "- It`s nearly monday morning, everything is shut!"
"-Wow wow wow!" - the shorty obviously knew better. - "I`m not a fucking tourist, mate!"
"-And I`m not a German before you ask me..." - mysteriously put in the tall drunk.
"-Don`t give me this shit! I`m local! There must be something open! I`ll give you a fiver if you take us to Wardour St!"- went on the shorty.
"-Ok! Let`s do it!"
"-There! I pay you upfront!"
Getting on the rickshaw was a real challenge for the tall one... He nearly fell. Shorty was laughing his ass off. When it was his turn to get on, he looked at me and said intimidatingly:
"-If you try to mug me off, I swear, I will fuck you up!"
"-Don`t worry!"
"-I`m not worried, mate..."
As soon as we moved on he started to scream at me: "Faster! We are in a hurry! LOL! LOL!" Every now and then he was adding that: "I`m just joking, mate!" On and on like that... He was also trying to grab my arse. Fortunately we were separated by the plastic rainshield. I concentrated on breathing. We got into Romilly St. He kept screaming, cackling, punching the rainshield and trying to touch my buttocks. "I`m just joking mate!" "That`s all right!" "Ha! So you like it!" He doubled his efforts. I got a vision of myself, grabing my trike by the front wheel, overturning it and then kicking him until the rainshield was all red. I concentrated on breathing instead. Soon we arrived to Wardour St.
"-Here we are!" - I announced.
"-You`re kicking us out?!" - the shorty was clearly disappointed - "take us somewhere lively!"
"-I told you everything was shut, wait here for two hours more an they will open again..."
"-Places like that should be open 24 h! All right! Give me a pound back!"
I told him quickly I had no change.
He got out, turned his back on me and started to piss on the nearest building.
The big one got off the rickshaw with a great difficulty. The shorty snapped, pissing:
"-I already payed him!"
The tall one tapped me on the shoulder:
"-You`re a good man!"
"-Thank you!"
I was gone immediately, thinking how lovely I was gonna describe it here.

Dreams

Once around Charring Cross Station I saw this guy. He got a big, heavy box of tools with him and he said he was a carpenter. He aked me if I knew any hostels around, explaining that he worked till late and missed his last train. I offered him a lift. He refused saying that he had no money. His toolbox looked really heavy. I told him, I could take him for free. I was plannig to bring him just to Sherwood St. He was hesitating for a while but finally got on. On the way he did give me some money though. Unfortunately the first hostel (the one in Sherwood St.) was full up. I checked the other one in Hollen Street too, just to find out that I needed to go to Generator in Tavistock Place not far from Russel Sq. Once I knew that, I was really happy it wasn`t a free lift anymore! Apparently they got some spaces available there. He thanked me heartily and apologized for not having anymore cash for me. He told me earlier that his girlfriend was from Lithuania. Presently he passed me a two Litai coin. "I hope it will bring you luck!" As he was about to go he asked me unexpectedly: "Do you still have dreams?" Quite puzzled I answered him something like: "Yes, of course! Who doesn`t?" "I`m sure, very soon they will come true." - he said and was gone.
I still have the coin and I`m still having my dreams :~)

Ancient wisdom

I spotted those two guys in the corner of Oxford Street and Newman Street. They were standing there, just talking. I stopped next to them and whilst we were having a little chat I noticed, that one of them got a necklace with a Star of David on it. "Oh! Are you Jewish?" - I exclaimed, maybe a bit imprudently. "Yes! Have you got any problem with that?" - he looked at me with a sudden scowl. "Why should I?" - I quickly answered him - "I just saw the star on your neck! That`s all!" He asked me where were I from and it seemed like my answer steadied him on. I kept offering them a lift. Finally the guy said jokingly: "Hmmm... Once you`ve got no problem with Jews..." He looked at me and smiled artfully: "Come on! Give us a Jewish bargain!"

No more advertisings - I`m banned by Google Ad Sense

After a "meticulous investigation" some erm... specialists from Google Ad Sense came to the conclusion that I put their bee`s knees in a "serious danger"! Yes ladies and gents! I`m nothing but a crook! Come closer`n`have a look! Thanks to my dirty tricks, in about four weeks I made like 20 quid! That`s it! That`s how to make cash quick! Yo listen dawg! Crack on writing a blog!
Nevetheless it`s over! They blew my cover! My dosh`s taken, and seems like I`m forsaken!
Why? "Iinvalid clicks" were getting much too high!
Well, thanks a lot, people, but unfortunately you were reading too many adverts! LOL
No worries though! Let`em get stuffed! I`m very happy to know that you come around in numbers. I`ll keep supplying you with more and more night-life-rickshaw stories.
There`s just one new element: NO MORE RAT RACE!!!
LOOOOOOL
(obviously it`s a matter of survival)

Royal Opera House

Wellington Street is quite uphill when you are coming from Waterloo Bridge. I was going up the road at easy pace. It was quite late at night and Covent Garden area was pretty empty. Passing Russel Street on my left I saw those two middle aged gents happily pissing on the Royal Opera House. Perceiving this as an obvious lack of respect for any high culture at all I quickly offered them a lift to the nearest tittybar. They accepted enthusiastically, tipping me generously on top of that.

A garbage truck or a broken bumper

It` a real nuisance when there`s a garbage truck in front of you, in one of the narrow streets of Soho. Immediately you get trapped with some cars in front of you having some more of them behind you... The only thing you can do is to pray for patience. You can also curse loudly. The result is the same. No escape. Even if you loose your temper, it`s still all right. The situation gets much worse when that thing happens to the driver in front of you. Let him hoot and honk as much as he likes. The real problem starts when he fancies to reverse...
Once I got stuck like that in Frith Street. The sanitation engineers were doing a great job, but for the guy in front of me that was no good enough. After a good deal of abusing his horn, quite unexpectedly for anybody, me being on the top of that list, he backed up as blithely as it gets.
His flashy rear bumper, apparently made of a flexible plastic, got over my pedal and presently was very firmly attached to my trike. I got pretty scared but soon I realised that nothing actually happend to my rickshaw. The champion in front of me finaly realised, that there was something behind him. Proving his brightness, at least for the second time that evening, he moved on forward. That had an immediate effect on his bumper that got nicely torn away. It was a weekend and the car was full of young people who obviously came to West End to party. The driver hastily got out of the car shouting insults. He saw his bumper on the floor and the same minute he spotted a police car parked a bit further down the road. The officers were sipping their cofee, standing around it. That cooled him down a bit. Especially because I could easily tell that he was on drugs. He came to me and said quickly: "I`ve got no problem with what just happened to my car. Has anything happen to your bike?" Fortunately nothing was wrong with it. We shaked our hands. The garbage truck moved on...

PER PERSON???!!!

"- A lift guys?
- You are too expensive! We can not afford you..."
This is a very frequent answer to my question. Usually we charge more than taxies, that`s the truth. Especially since they (thanks God for that) have forbidden any engines at all. Without any electric assist all the riders pedal the same. I think it`s just. I also think that we deserve good fares for our hard work. Although some people try to treat us like animals, we are neither a horses nor anything else of this kind. I`m sure it`s fair enough - you take a rickshaw, you enjoy a good service, within West End you move much quicker then any cab (not to mention buses) cause you don`t get stuck in a traffic. You take a rickshaw and you love it cause it`s fun. It is a great experience! That`s why many people take one even if they go places a bit more distant like Euston or Kings Cross, Old Street, Liverpool Street, London Bridge or Borough, Waterloo, Victoria, Sloane Square or Knightsbridge, South Ken, Gloucester Rd, High Street Kensington, Notting Hill Gate, Paddington, Edgware Rd, Baker Street... The most distant place I`ve ever been to with customers is Tooting Broadway and let me tell you - me and the customers, we enjoyed that enormously! Obviously the further you go the more you pay. I strongly recommend to agree the price beforehand. That leaves no space for any misunderstandings. One more very important thing: we charge per person. Very often when I say that I hear: "Are you for real?!", "You are having a laugh/a bubble/a giraffe!", "You are a fucking mental, mate!" etc. Well, so be it but what would you do, if you were to pedal? Probably the same, I guess. Still, nobody forces anybody else to travel in style i.e. to hire a pedicab. Everyone who have tried it though, knows it`s worth every penny.
Anyway, a little bit of skepticism adds some spice to the whole thing.
Once two guys have stopped me next to Imax Cinema by Waterloo Bridge. They`ve asked me about the price, naming quite a distant destination. My message was simple - "the damage" would be significant. "How much?!" - one of them couldn`t believe it. I said that again. "Does it include the drugs you are on, mister?" - was his next question.

He`s been there...

Another night among many interesting people I met in West End there was this guy, walking quickly down Charring Cross Road, his hood on his head. He kept repeating loudly:
"Maaaaaan! I`ve been in prison maaaaaaaan!
Yeah maaaaaaan! I`ve been in prison maaaaaaan!"

Helpful

Once after a busy saturday night I found on my trike a passport with a credit card inside. It was already early sunday morning. I considered that it was a serious matter. I checked the passport and I found inside of it this emergency contact number, written with a pencil. Immediately I made a phone call. "Hallo" - I heard a male, groggy voice. "Hallo! Do you know..." I gave him the passport holder`s name. "Wrong number!" - he just hung up. I double checked the number. There was no mistake, for sure! I repeated the call. I tried to explain what was going on. "Look mate!" - the guy was getting irritated - "It`s not funny to wake people up at this time on sunday morning." He hung up again. He didn`t even listen! I was determined to sort out this misunderstanding. I called him one more time. He got furious: "I don`t know who gave you this number, but I will find out who you are and then I will breake both your hands and legs!!!".

Charlie

One very, very experienced rider told me that when he was but a beginner this situation really took place. On one occasion he was stopped by some guys who told him that they wanted to go to where "charlie" was. They asked him so, if he knew where "charlie" would be. "Sure thing!" - was his answer. He got`em on his trike and quickly took`em to Prince Charles Cinema on 7 Leicester Place.

A kickback

Some of the clubs or discotheques in West End give you a couple of quid commission when you bring`em customers. Some of them employ a whole army of touts who chase the punters for them. Last night I took a nice couple to this club, that was always open till late. As they got in I asked one of the bouncers, a big African guy, if they paid any kickback, at all. He looked at me, smiled and said: "Here we only kick front."

Just sleeves

I got a lovely story for you ;~) I heard this one from another rickshaw rider, a friend of mine. He never spun a yarn. One night in Soho those two big guys were looking for trouble. As I just told you they were pretty much of a jockstrap type, so they decided to show off a bit. They tried to bully some rickshaw riders and to intimidate practically anybody else they met. They went on like that, very self-confident, to explore Soho. After a while they could be seen runnig. Local crooks were seriuosly after them. One of them got his head open with a bottle. The other was fleeing half naked, having his shirt torn away, except for the sleeves . And so, very fortunately for them, while still on the run, they managed to flag down a black cab and drove off.