Kerb crawling

I needed to pull over in my taxi, so I indicated left, and began to slow down. I noticed two angry street prostitutes having a territorial dispute at my chosen stopping point, so I cancelled my intended manoeuvre and drove around the corner instead. I pulled over and switched off the ignition.

Utterly absorbed in my phone, I suddenly became aware of someone walking away from my car. It was the taller prostitute, who had mistaken my aborted manoeuvre for an attempt at kerb-crawling. As she drew level with my window, she noticed that I was female, and simply turned on her heel, to return to ply her trade on the road.

I do feel sad for these girls. They were tiny babies once, full of life, innocence and potential. Being a street prostitute is not a job that anyone grows up wanting to do.

At some point in their lives, something happened to these girls, and a subsequent chain of events led them to try to sell themselves to passing strangers. As one of my own customers once remarked, “Someone put them there.”

It’s a very dangerous situation to be in, and I really do feel for those women whose lives have been so corrupted that they take to the streets.

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Sad but true

I picked up two exceptionally well-spoken ladies, who had enjoyed an excellent play at the theatre.

We discussed the play, driving and traffic, satnavs, and the perils of being a pedestrian, amongst other things.

One lady asked me where I live. I told her, and mentioned how much my partner and I had enjoyed seeing a deer in our neighbour’s garden. I also mentioned that I had seen an otter while driving home, two weeks earlier.

“An OTTER!” the lady exclaimed joyfully, in her cut-glass accent. “How lovely! Oh, I love otters!”

“They are beautiful creatures,” I agreed. “It was a treat to see one.”

The lady continued, “When I was a little girl, my father was Master of the local Otter Hunt. It was great sport!”

“Oh, really?” I asked, feeling dismayed.

“Yes!” the lady continued. “I loved it when they found one! Such lovely creatures!”

“What happened to the otters once they had been found?” I asked, wondering if I was missing something.

“Oh, well, they would be taken to the vets, and… well, you know!” the lady explained. “They were considered terrible nuisances back then. Of course, these days, they are an endangered species.”

Funny, that.

Sadness

I am feeling very sad. I just found a little black cat, dead in the road. It had been run over. No collar. It was in a very bad way, so I picked it up, and laid it gently in the verge. I would hate for its human companions to have seen it like that. I will contact the local vets and lost pet groups later. Right now, I just want to hold my two little beauties close.


Another little life lost, and more lives shattered by the loss. Why can’t people just drive more carefully?