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The Humour of the London Cabby!
A True Tale of Darkest London Town.
I caught a cab one evening from my office in WC2, 'cos it was hot and I couldn't face the tube.
The cabby was an engaging bloke and typical of his breed.
"What time train you catching, Guv?" he asked.
"Seven O'clock, " I muttered deep in some important papers, as you do.
We eventually chatted to while away the journey...................
"Funny old train that seven O'clock," he said, "Bloody strange goings on!"
"Really? I said, increasingly fascinated.
"Oh yes, Guv: that's the one that the Phantom (Rude word: shall we say one could call a turkey this, as it's the noise they make!) catches, when she's in the mood!"
"The Phantom G!" I said, with even more focus.
"Yes, Guv. She picks a carriage with one well dressed City gent in it, well, a bit like you I suppose."
"Then she performs on him as you would expect from her name and gets off at the next station!"
"She's apparently very tasty Guv, if you get my drift. Well dressed; all the right bits in the right place and in her case, more than average up top. Double tasty, I've heard!"
A pregnant pause.
"Do yer know 'ow you can recognise her, Guv?"
"No idea," I said.
"By the dustmarks on the knees of her bloody tights, Guv!"
Gluey was well taken in!
![Big Smile [:D]](/cs/images/emotions/biggrin.gif)
"Yes, but that apart, Mrs Lincoln, did you enjoy the play?"
Gluestick
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