Crazy night in Dullsville part X
August 2nd 2010 10:05
Part X: Taxi to hell
We’re cruising down the freeway. The taxi passes the exit where I normally turn off to go home. We keep driving into the dark, misty night. Next stop – Kwinana.
I glance at my watch. Shit, it’s bloody 4am. What the fuck am I doing in a taxi with two random milfs and a 30 drunk as skunk pom. As least Bob is here. He looks rattled. I can’t blame him. What the fuck are we getting ourselves into? An orgy? More booze and drugs? Will we get mugged and bashed and possibly raped up the arse by the milfs’ feral husbands?
These vile images swirl through my drug-addled mangled brain. Meanwhile, the brunette milf is babbling: “You guys are going to be Kwinana bogans tonight. How exciting.” She giggles to the blonde milf. Bob and I don’t laugh. My paranoid brain goes into overdrive. What the fuck does that mean? Does it imply they are going to mace us and bound us with rope, while we get our heads shaved by the milfs and their bogan husbands tattoo a large Southern Cross on our backs. I shudder, as a fear of dread consumes me.
Nah surely I’m overreacting and Rob and I are getting some yummy mummy action as the Pom passes out or dies due to alcohol poisoning. Nothing would shock me now, there’s no going back to salvation.
Meanwhile, the Pom has crashed and is so soused he can’t sit straight. His head slumps on my shoulder. But he is suddenly jolted back to consciousness by his ringing mobile phone.
He slowly takes his phone from his jeans and quickly cancels the call.
He turns to me and his bloodshot eyes have all the hallmarks of a classic boozehound.
“That was my wife,” he whispers.
And I thought I was in the shit.
After what feels like an eternity, the taxi grinds to halt. We are here and possibly ready to face our executioners.
I peer out the window but it’s too dark and I can’t make out the surroundings.
The brunette milf pays the taxi driver and we head out into the cool air.
Hello Kwinana!!
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