Take me to Yeti`s

As usual I started late. In vain I was going on and on in circles. I couldn`t get any lift at all! My frustration was growing. I started to brood on how much I hate the fucking petty bourgeoisie. And all those drunk rich kids. And all those minicab drivers hooting at me without any reason at all. And all those drunk, plump, middle aged gentlemen staggering on the streets. And all those crooks. And crackheads. And plainclothes. And obviously, a mood like that is not good for bussiness... I just wanted to get back home. Fortunately my disciplined mind vanquished the defeatism. "One more round and you can go" - I promised to myself. It worked again! I saw this guy standing in the corner of Wardour Street and Shaftsbury Avenue. "Where`s Trafalgare Square?" - he inquired. "Can I take you there?" "Ok. Just stop by a cashpoint" Saying that he collapsed on my trike. He was pretty shitfaced. His english was good but he was speaking with a funny accent. When we stopped by an ATM, a bunch of young, scantily dressed girls stormed out from a perpendicular street, yelling and throwing around them anything they could pick up for that purpose. Hustlers flocked to make friends with them. A fascinating mating dance broke out. My customer was impressed for a while then collapsed again on my rickshaw. "You know, I want to go to this place..." he frowned thinking intensively "...this place ...erm ...called Yeti`s." Keeping in mind that we are not at all near by Himalaya I decided to stick to the plan. "Is it by Trafalgar Sqauare?" "Yes, I think so..." "No problem at all! I`ll get you there!" On the way, every now and then he kept asking me if I was sure that I knew where we were we going. I drove to Tesco Express and we stopped. He got off and kept talking about Yeti`s, about him being a lost foreigner in London, about his stolen bag... He also made that clear to me, that if I wanted to fuck him up he was gonna fuck me up first because he`s a mental and a very dangerous guy. He added that he respected me and if we were in his country he would show me everything worth seeing. He didn`t tell me were was he from. His name sounded more or less like "Mamal". Considering where I had picked him up from I was really surprised that he was still in possession of his own wallet and mobile phone. I didn`t want to leave him like that. I didn`t know where Yeti lived either. "Can you call any friend of yours to help you?" He could and he passed me the handset. I explained where we were and the other guy promised to come over in ten minutes. Mamal got furious "Yeah! Half an hour ago he was supposed to be in Oxford Circus!!!" In this very moment we were joined by two Spaniards who tried really hard to convince me to take`em to South Ken for a fiver. There was much rejoicing. Finally Mamal`s friend appeared. He was a bit more sober than his pal. They thanked me cordially and were gone. I directed the Spaniards, politely refusing their fiver and a very kind offer of swapping on the way to South Kensington and evaporated.