Twatted Lawyer and Big Cabbie

Dragon Bar on Thursday night was typically filled with uber-trendy Hoxton types. The girls looked like clones of Sandy Shaw in shift dresses and 'kooky' necklaces while the men were divided into the ridiculously slick in pork pie hats and suits to the trackie top and baggy jeans crew. It's difficult to relax when you've come straight from work and are just wearing a long black jumper and skinny jeans but I removed my demure cleavage-concealing vest from under the jumper, piled on more liquid eyeliner to almost Winehouse proportions, squirted some hairspray on my roots and decided to vamp it. I met Oz Girl and B for a night of funk, too much gin (as it turned out), to regale them with my latest date stories, and to meet Oz Girl's new boyfriend who was very tall and very lovely.

Towards the end of the night I got talking to a guy at the bar who claimed to be a lawyer. He was pretty drunk but was cute and funny and the other guy I'd been making eye contact with for an hour had just started talking to one of the Shaw clones so I was feeling a bit pissed off and was glad of the distraction. After a while we ascertained that we both lived in West London and he suggested we share a cab. I debated the pros and cons of this for about four seconds but the part of my brain that controls the 'male attention' related decisions overruled most of the cons and I agreed. I wasn't about to flag down one of the many murder cabs lined up outside so I called faithful Addison Lee after agreeing we'd go halves on the fare (naturally). When the cab arrived, Lawyer was nowhere to be seen and after pushing through the hoardes I eventually found him with his head on a Shaw Clone's shoulder, practically passed out. I managed to rouse him (as it were) and went outside to wait. Presently he staggered out and fell into the cab with me. Within three minutes he was trying to get me to go home with him. Every single tired old line I've heard over the last few months of voracious dating was trotted out. When he scooted over in his seat and tried to grope me, I not only got offended but really pissed off with him. To the point where I actually said 'I've had a few one night stands recently and I'm so over them right now. You picked the wrong girl to share a cab with.' It clearly didn't sink in as he didn't stop so I just resisted his octopus-like advances until we reached his stop. At which point he turned to me and said 'Have you got any cash?' Excuse me? Haven't you?? No, it would appear he didn't but I wasn't to worry because he had some indoors. Oh and if I wanted to come up with him for a while, that would be OK too, obviously.
The cab driver had been cutting him suspicious looks in the rear view and he began to look genuinely annoyed (him and me both). Lawyer promised he'd go indoors then come straight back down with the cash and dubious though I was we had no choice but to agree.
He went indoors.
We waited.
Cab driver asked me if I was OK and I got teary (too much gin as mentioned)
We waited some more.
We waited a bit more while I grew more and more embarrassed.
Cab driver decided enough was enough, turned off the engine, got out and banged on Lawyer's front door.
Lawyer eventually emerged in his socks and Grant Mitchell-alike cab driver forced him to get back into the cab to drive to a cash point much to Lawyer's annoyance (he was also clearly bricking it under big-bloke threats which pleased me). We drove around looking for a cashpoint and eventually Lawyer had to get out in his socks to get some cash. The fare was £32 so when he returned to the car and practically threw a tenner at me accompanied by an angry 'Is that enough then?' I was livid. 'No it's fucking not! You still owe me six quid, you dickhead!' I don't usually provoke drunk men like that but I had the backup of Grant so I knew I could push it a bit.
The cab driver (to whom I'd been apologising profusely for bringing this turd anywhere near his car) demanded the Lawyer give me a twenty. 'But I already did!' Lawyer whined, gesturing stupidly at the tenner I was clutching. The moron. Eventually he took that back and gave me a twenty. I slammed the cab door and we sped off leaving Idiot Boy stranded in his socks, streets away from his house and hopefully without his door key. The whole thing ended up costing me the same as if I'd gone home alone but with the added bonus of leaving me feeling so angry with men in general that I got indoors and burst into frustrated tears. If I'm honest it wasn't tossy Lawyer I was that annoyed with, it was myself. I am so messed up with men that I'm willing to share a cab with a guy so drunk he could barely focus just because I was feeling a little starved of attention and wound up being upset and very, very embarrassed. I really need a hobby.