Hustlers

"Stop, stop! This is a holdup! A HOLDUP! LOL! LOL!" Four teenage boys get in my way. "Give us all your money! LOL!!!!" "My money? LOL! I wish I had it!" "Oi boss! Give us a free lift to Trafalgar Sq, innit?!" "I`m not going there. I`ve finished for tonight and I`m getting back to the garage" "Which way are you going?" "Towards Holborn." "Then give us a free lift to there! You are going this direction anyway" "I`m tired. I`ve been out for hours." "Listen, listen! Take us with you! We`ll sack everybody we meet on the way and we`ll give you an Ipod!" "That`s tempting and I do appreciate it, but I`d rather be going. You guys have a good night." "See you later!" they say and that`s it, for this time.
Geezers need excitement, innit?! I see them every night. Every now and then they are bored enough to come closer. Hustlers in general are usually very young or even very, very young and preferably roll deep. To come to West End with a bunch of bloods to hustle, mainly around Leicester Sq. and Trocadero is not too bad a way to kill the urban boredom. Sometimes one needs to be patient. Like the other night. Me and my mate we park and wait for customers. And there you go. A whole bunch of hustlers arrives. They sit on our trikes and refuse to get off even when people want to hire us. Their "leader" is trying to talk us into carrying the whole lot to Trocadero for one pound per person... It`s a busy time. We are losing money. Some riders offer us their help but I politely refuse. The situation isn`t really dangerous and the last thing I want is to fight with a bunch of kids in the middle of Oxford St. I know that soonish they will discover that there`s not enough fun in here. I`m not aggresive and they see that I`m not scared either. No fun. The "leader" has to do something just to save his face. He comes to me and says: "I`ll be praying all night for you to die!" Off they go.
One day I stop in Oxford Circus. I try to convince those two guys, who look like the city workers,that I could take`em somewhere really nice. Suddenly a large group of hustlers appears. Some sit on my rickshaw, some others start to bullshit the city boys. "We come from a dangerous area, yeah?! Council estate, innit?! Bang! Bang! We could shoot your glasses off bruv!" "Impossible" - the fellow proves he`s bright - "my glasses are buletproof!" Now all the "gangstaz" are boisterously hooting. "BULETPROOF!!! LOOOL! LOOOL! LOOOL!" Swaying and laughing loudly they go away.

To be honest though, so called "regular" customers very often happen to be much worse than a badboy element. For example soldiers. Once in the middle of a winter night a guy and two ladies stop me. They say they want to go to Victoria.It is absolutely clear, that they are shitfaced all right. And God knows what else. We move. After a while I realise that somebody is kicking my ankle rhythmically. I turn around and I see one of those women. She seems to be comatose. Eyes shut, head dropped and her tits out. Still kicking though. The icy wind blows. Well, when you drive a rickshaw you need to look forward. Then they start to argue. It`s not easy to concentrate on anything when you`ve got three nutters behind you. They insult each other and talk a lot of shit. In every red light somebody tries to go out. With a great effort I manage to keep`em on my trike. After a while that seems timeless like eternity I finally get to Victoria station. The guy looks around and asks: "Where the fuck did you bring us? I said we were going to Wellington Barracks!" "No George!" the other woman protests "you told him to take us to Victoria" They start to fight again. Somehow I manage to get`em on board. "Welly B" fortunately is not far. On the way they go completely mad. After that lift I feel like I should retire immediately.
On another occasion two slodiers (or maybe even officers) in their forties, wearing those service dresses wish to go to... Wellington Barracks. As soon as I start one of them says: "Get to it you cunt!" I stop. "What did you say?" "Oh! Nothing!It`s just a figure of speech!" - explains his companion. That time I stay in West End.