Children of the night

Me and one fellow rider from Bangladesh (think his name is Ariv) had a long lift from Regent Street to that popular club called Fabric in Farringdon. As soon as we finished by Smithfield Market I was approached by two fellows who asked me to take them to London Bridge. We were negotiating a price for a moment and finally one of them simply sat on my trike. "Do you want to do this?" - His friend asked him, kind of surprised. He looked at me then, produced some notes from his pocket and inquired if I wanted the money upfront. I said I trusted him and he could pay me once we arrived. He thanked me and shook my hand. Off we went. As I started the guy who sat on the rickshaw first yelled roughly: "Pump it!!!" I didn't like it much so I looked him in the eye grinning a warning. He just laughed loudly and extended his hand to shake mine. Only by then I noticed that his face was all covered with bruises as from a recent fighting. I also realised that their eyes glistened in a peculiar way. Both of them were high as fuck. I started to regret I didn't take the money beforehand but it was too late. We only got around the corner when the other fellow (not the one who's face was all bruised) asked: "Do you like cocaine? Do you want some?" I refused politely and felt somewhat relived. They seemed friendly and relaxed, not hyperactively paranoid and aggressive as some people get when on drugs. "It's puro! Good stuff! I got it from my neighbour!" - He insisted but let go when I refused again. He clearly was in a chatty mood, though. "Are you married? Have you got any children? How old are you?" I told him I was 32, no children. "Come on man! I'm 30 and I've got two already. My oldest son is 14!" "You didn't waste your time, huh?" - I smiled at him. "It's in my blood!" - He stated proudly. He paid me without any problems, after we arrived, both of them expressing politely their gratitude.

So you are leaving me?!

I stayed till late that night. I had a very long ride by the end of it and I was just getting back to the base hoping to find some donuts in the fridge. Around Holborn station I saw that guy standing on a pavement. Staggering he flaged me down. "Typical..." I said to myself and I regarded him quizzicaly. These new, expensive, fashionable clothes, a lot of gold and a thick cloud of good eau de Cologne around him - one could easily tell that this plump, Indian gentleman was wealthy. He tried to tell me something, he couldn`t speak though... I spotted some dried blood in the corner of his mouth. He was trying to articulate something desperately. Instead he was making strange soft sounds. I watched him with grim fascination. "207" - he announced finally as he handed to me his oyster card. "I`m not a bus driver, you know?" I said with his oyster card in my hand. "Can you take me to Ealing?" I just laughed and wanted to go away. "So you are leaving me, yeah?" - he reproached and made a face like a five years old boy who is about to burst in tears. "This is for you"- he passed me a bunch of keys and a mobile phone with a pic of a nice Indian girl set up as screen`s background. "Let`s go somewhere." He produced a handsome wad from his pocket: "Count with me..." I ignored him and handed back the keys and the mobile. "I can`t take you to Ealing." "So you are leaving me?" he repeated. A police car went by. He gave it a hostile look. "Fuck`em! What can they do?" - he exclaimed. Then he adressed me speaking with great difficulty: "People think... I`m fucked in my mind... but it`s just... too much cocaine..." Dawn was breaking. "Look" said I "I can take you to Holborne tube station, I`m sure you get a train to Ealing from there." "For how much?" "For free! It`s just around the corner!" He laboriously scrambled on my trike. I got him to the station, it was still shut. He got off and gibbered: "I want to go to Ealing..." "You can either wait for the first train or catch your bus from there." I showed him a bus stop near by, next to Sainsbury`s. " Thank you soooo much! Give us a hug!" He gave me a hug and passed to me those keys and the mobile phone again. As he took out his hand from his pocket a fifty pence coin fell on the floor. I picked it up. He held his hand out, quickly, clearly demanding the fallen coin back. I put the keys and the phone in it, pocketed the coin and moved away. When I turned around I saw him heading somewhere, not at all towards the bus stop...