Here is one story as I promised you, from Tasmania, where my naughty youngest brother met up with me (with his patient wife). My version won’t be as funny as hearing his laconic voice telling the story; but picture Angus, my seafaring brother, fashionably unshaven with beard going grey and a face that lights up with a large mischievous grin.
Angus uses a taxi service to take him from the ship to home and back, so he gets to know the taxi drivers, who also like to tell a good yarn:
Four prostitutes on their night off needed a taxi home.
‘Drop me off here,’ says Fifi.
‘Drop me here,’ says Amber,
‘Drop me here, Shelley will pay, we take it in turns,’ says Crystal.
Finally Shelley gives directions as to her stop. When she arrives, she opens the door and rushes out of the cab with out paying. She’s struggling to run, as her skin-tight dress is impeding her progress. In her haste she falls.
The taxi driver says, ‘that’ll take the bark off ‘er.’ He backs the taxi back to catch her up. All he sees is her ripping the dress off which reveals her completely naked. ‘There she is, you could see what she’d had for breakfast!’ She’s off like a shot, disappearing leaving me empty handed. ‘All I’m left with is an indelible image of those ripe cherries tattooed on her boobs.’
Barbara Pyett 