Thursday, 24 December 2009

Fairytale of York

Goodness, but I had a festive cab journey, just now. I think it deserves recording for posterity. The spirit of my mother was most definitely with me tonight, as the evening combined two of her best super powers - fucking up the East Coast mainline rail service and knowing the intimate life of York taxi drivers.

In the driver's defence, I sort of started it. I didn't mean to, but 2 hours at Kings Cross, 2 hours on the train, followed by another half hour in the insanely snowy taxi queue with wet feet in stupid heels had obviously destroyed all my critical faculties and social filters (yes, Chablis might also have been partially responsible for that. No matter). Thus, when the driver said to me "Are you cooking Christmas dinner?" I answered:

"No, we're not doing Christmas dinner because I've just split up with my ex (note how articulate that formula was. Chablis vocabulary) . We're spending the day together with the kids, but we can't be arsed to cook".

TD: We did that Jamie wassit's turkey last year. It were gorgeous. Shove a load of butter up its arse. Stick some foil over t' top. (he did talk like this, I am not lapsing into Geoffrey Boycott/James Herriott professional Yorkshireness, tempting though it is. I do have a whippet after all)

E: Oh? I've got a mate who sticks her turkey in salt water for three days in a bin outside. Apparently it's gorgeous.

TD: So are you a good mother then?

E: (puzzled, must have misheard) Eh?

TD: Are yer a good mother?

E: (now fully primed for philosophical debate on nature of parenting): Well, what's a good mother?

TD: Does 'e see 'is kids?

E: Oh yeah. Loads. We do fifty fifty.

TD: Because I been married twice, and t'first wife - can I speak my mind?

E: Oh, go ahead.

TD: She were a right evil cow.

E: Oh?

TD: She were just after me money and she turned the kids against me. Me two girls.

(you can hear sleigh bells ringing and songs of peace and joy at this point can't you? It gets better)

E: Bad choice of wife by you, then.

TD: Second wife were 'er, first wife's best friend. And she - the evil cow - shacked up wi' second wife' husband.

(chestnuts are roasting on an open fire now)

E: Convenient.

TD: She wanted everything. I offered 60:40 but bitch weren't 'avin it.

E: You can see why there are some bitter men out there.


(Hang on - you are ready for the festive climax, aren't you. I want everyone FESTOONED in tinsel for this bit, because it's so fucking Christmassy you may expire from the sheer seasonal goodness of it. Ready? Good. )

Now both of me daughters are heroin addicts and prostitutes.

E: Oh. Oh, that's awful. Er. Right! This is me here by the telegraph pole! Butter up its arse you say? Merry Christmas!


Iheartfashion said...


jellybones said...

Tis the season eh?

Julia Ball said...

Sometimes there just are no words ! :-) Have you thawed out yet?

Fat Controller said...

Am I just a warped human being? That last line of his just cracked me up into hysterical laughter. It just has to be true, you couldn't make that up!

linda said...

Brilliant. Cinematic, even. Butter up the arse and all.

kathycastro said...

That leaves Jimmy Stewart in the dust. Thanks so much! xx

Anne said...

Ah, nothing to put the fun back in dysfunction like the hollydaze! Thanks for that.

(Yes, I just said hollydaze. Blame it on the nog, won't you, and hey where's that rum gone?)

Margaret said...

That was beautiful. If it were a made-for-TV special, I would record it on the DVR and then scream at my husband for accidentally erasing it. Afterward, I would Google-stalk it for *years* until I found a low-def copy on YouTube.

Merry Christmas, Waffle!

fourstar said...

Having taken many a taxi in York, "Can I speak my mind?" is the very last thing you want to hear, especially in a static queue of cars on the A59.

The butter sounds good though.

(WV = thegal, which you are)

Jaywalker said...

Fourstar - Ha, it was Lord Mayors Walk and I was seconds from home. But even so, I will admit it might have been a mistake. Just conceivably.

Mrs Jones said...

How terribly Alan Bennett!

Ooh, my word verification - 'hnalan' - confirms this!

Chris said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
M. said...

Ho Ho Whore!

Chris said...

myself and the famous nick hughes once got the last coach out of victoria going north on christmas eve. we had aisle seats level with each other, a bottle of rum and were as happy as it is possible to be on a national express coach on christmas eve. then we discovered that our respective windows seats were occupied by "Britain's Only Female Elvis Impersonator" tm and her manager. These two were a decidedly overweight middle-aged lesbian couple who were just in the middle of a MASSIVE, DEPLETED URANIUM-TIPPED ROW that they continued, speaking/shouting over the top of us for the entire 6.5 HOURS we were on the coach.

i am not full of christmas cheer at the best of times, but i think it is fair to say that was the least festive/charitable/unlikely to stab someone in the face i have ever been, watching 2 ppl who clearly hated each other quite a lot, publicly assassinate each other's characters non-stop as everyone else tried forlonly to enjoy themselves. i am feeling your pain.

Jen said...

Wow. Merry Christmas to all!

Lisa-Marie said...

I shouldn't laugh, because his tale of woe is quite sad, though not suprising, but my god that made me laugh so much!!!

I hope you have a lovely Christmas waffle!xxx

Jeannette said...

OMG you couldn't make that up! I'll be thinking of this when I'm shoving butter up my turkey tomorrow.

PS Unbelievable: the word verification for this comment is "quarse" !

irretrievablybroken said...

I am moving to York. Immediately.

A Woman Of No Importance said...

And t'Yuletide Spirit lives on, non?!

Merry Chrimbo, Waffle-Godmother, and may your 2019 just sparkle! xox

MissGodarkly said...

Feck BW, I choked on my wine reading this. Forget 'never eat yellow snow'. 'Butter up the arse' has got to be the best parting 'tip' ever. Wishing you and you're wee ones a fantastic Christmas.

MadameSmokinGun said...

I expect his daughters know all about butter up the arse. Fun for all the family then. Add this to the list of favourite Xmas parlour games. Happy Xmas from MadameButterBum Not sure we'll be invited back to the vicarage next year x

Metropolitan Mum said...

Holy shit. Merry Christmas!

A Woman Of No Importance said...

2010!!! Sorry... No HG Wells' time machine available... Be well, be blessed, sweetie!

WrathofDawn said...

Eeek! That taxi ride ended just in time.

Merry Christmas!

Sabine said...

A story to all make us feel good (i.e. life could be worse)... Merry Christmas to you. Looking forward to more hilarious stories in 2010. Sabine x

Conde Homer said...

Laughing like a drain. So funny.

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