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