(Rather than write the same vaguedrivel, here is a pretty gif to inspire you, a link to the weather for the week, and a link to londonist, a great resource for all things London related. As always this post is open all week. Tag in, tag others, check back often!)
In a purely gallant move, D opened the door for her and offered her a hand to steady her way on inside. She didn't look like she was drunk enough to be sick, but he'd had enough of these fares to know he might have a bit of trouble getting a solid address out of her.
"Then your chariot awaits, miss. I'm Davey, call me D. I'll see that you get home safely."
The hand got shaken, since Dutch might not be drunk enough to be sick, but she was definitely drunk enough not to understand what it was meant for. "I'm Dutch," she told him, flashing him a smile. "Don't call me D, things would get confusing."
That said, she let go of his hand and climbed into the cab, even managing not to bump her head on the doorframe. She was quite proud of herself.
She could; even drunk, her address was something she knew by heart. Like she could've hacked someone, all on autopilot. She rattled off an adress in Camden, getting comfortable in the backseat. "Don't suppose you'd let me smoke back here?" Hey, it didn't hurt to ask.
"Yeah, a party with some old friends," Dutch confirmed, pulling a cigarette out of her packet and looking for a lighter now. "I hadn't seen them in a while."
"That's fun. That's nice," he replied amiably. "Looks like you had a good
time. Little drunk, little more? Hmm? And a safe ride home. Good night all
'round."
Dutch chuckled. "Little more, yeah." She lit up and took a long, happy drag on her cigarette. "What about you, D? Good night? Not too many drunk customers?" She was definitely poking fun at herself.
"Fair enough, fair enough," he chuckled. "I don't, much, myself. Can't even
recall the last time I had a pint. I keep a clear head," he said then.
"These...these are my vice."
He held up his cigarette to show, then returned it to his lips for another
drag.
A better man might have laughed that off. A better man might have thought
otherwise than to take her up on the suggestion he prove himself. But Davey
was not a better man, nor even a particularly good man, and so he met her
eyes in the mirror and smiled.
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"Then your chariot awaits, miss. I'm Davey, call me D. I'll see that you get home safely."
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That said, she let go of his hand and climbed into the cab, even managing not to bump her head on the doorframe. She was quite proud of herself.
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"Alright, Dutch. Where am I taking you tonight?" he asked, hoping she wasn't so far gone that she could give him a solid address.
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"Not if you don't mind if I join you," he replied. "Not back there. Up here," he added with a laugh as he produced a packet and held them up in show.
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"I really am," he agreed, fishing out one and lighting up. He cracked the window to let the smoke out, but not enough to let the chill in.
"So what have you been doing tonight, Dutch? Have a good time?" he asked.
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"That's fun. That's nice," he replied amiably. "Looks like you had a good time. Little drunk, little more? Hmm? And a safe ride home. Good night all 'round."
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"Not too many, and you're by far the prettiest," he said, looking over his shoulder to flash her a handsome smile.
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Davey chuckled at that for the moment it took to flick his ash out the window.
"So what do you do in the daylight, hmm? A person cuts loose like this they must have something to cut loose from. Am I right?"
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"Fair enough, fair enough," he chuckled. "I don't, much, myself. Can't even recall the last time I had a pint. I keep a clear head," he said then. "These...these are my vice."
He held up his cigarette to show, then returned it to his lips for another drag.
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"Mostly, yeah," he chuckled. "Not that I run or anything, and I don't eat right. But I reckon every little bit helps, right?"
He slowed to a stop at a light and looked back at her.
"I get up to enough that I should probably be thankful I'm still here at all," he said lightly with a bit of a cheeky smile.
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"Oh, you know...I get up to a bit of this and that. A bloke needs to make money and driving a taxi isn't exactly a high paying job," he grinned.
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"I know how to pique a girl's a lot of things," he replied with a warm chuckle.
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A better man might have laughed that off. A better man might have thought otherwise than to take her up on the suggestion he prove himself. But Davey was not a better man, nor even a particularly good man, and so he met her eyes in the mirror and smiled.
"Be happy to do that," he said.
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"Nah, I don't need a drink," he replied. "But I'd like to eat something," he added, looking at her in the mirror.
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