Many moons ago
I found myself living in Cape Town doing nothing more than drinking cheap beer and smoking cheap weed. One of my regular haunts was a place called Fat Boys where you could drink as much as you like for 30 rand (about 4 quid).

So one night, after consuming vast quantities of lager, wine, spirits and whatever other low quality alcohol they had going, I was pretty damn shit faced. It was about 4am in the morning and the cleaners had turned up to start clearing up all the plastic cups and beer cans. As I didn’t have anything else to do at the time I decided to join in.

My mates stepped over me on the way out asking me what the fuck I was doing as I was crawling around on my hands and knees clearing up after myself and others. They told me to hurry up, pointing out that I didn’t want to be left by myself in the centre of Cape Town at 4 in the morning. Not the safest place to be.

I eventually stumbled out and found myself alone on the warm, dark streets of Cape Town. Luckily I spied a cab and jumped in the back. “Observatory” I slurred, for that was the name of the suburb in which I was staying.

“I don’t know where that is” replied the young lady behind the wheel.

Hmmmm, I thought, a young lady driving a cab at night in South Africa, doesn’t seem the safest vocation. Oh well. “I’ll direct you.”

We eventually made it home and as I was getting out of the cab I asked how much? The poor girl who was looking quite terrified at this point meekly pointed out “I’m not a cab.”

It would appear I had just jumped in some poor woman’s car and demanded she take me home. Ooops.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Fri 1 Jun 2007, 7:54, Reply)