Extra Money.

Extra Money.
Russell needed to make a shilling. Christmas was on the way and money was tight. The British Leyland factory at Bathgate was on short time; so making money through overtime was an impossibility.

He headed upstairs to the huge toilet block where he could hide from the gaffers and give himself time to think. He stepped through the swing doors and strolled into the massive toilet. The space was tiled in white from floor to ceiling; it was fifty foot wide and stretched for two hundred. The centre was filled with carousels for washing hands. The right wall, held long lines of urinals, interspersed with hand towels and baskets for paper towels. On the left, were double sets of cubicles.

Skivers were sitting on the floor with their backs to the walls, some reading, others in groups playing cards, or just chatting, to wile away the time. He found a space between the cubicles and sat down. Resting his arms on his knees and with his head against the wall, he began to wonder how he was going to change his luck, or his circumstances, when he heard voices from inside one of the cubicles.

" Yi'll huve tae turn round a bit, A cannae git yie right fae here."

" How can A turn round a bit? There's nae room? Yi'll huv tae manage fae where yie are."

" Fur Goad's sake this is hopeless tryin tae dae it here, A'm gonnae end up wie cramp in ma legs, A can feel it cummin oan the noo. Theyr'e starting tae tremble. A telt yie we should huv waited tae finishin time and did it in your hoose. It would have been quicker and mair bloody comfortable, and yie know A like tae see whit A'm daein in the mirror."

" Och fur fuck sake, the mair you're talkin, the longer it's gonnae take. Try and concentrate oan whit yir dain and it'll be over wie aw the sooner."

" Aye ok well"

Russell, was shocked, he looked about him. No one else seemed to have heard the two poofs in the toilet. He spotted a plastic mop bucket with the mop leaning against the cold tap on the wall. ‘I'll stop this carry on,he thought, A'm no huvin two toe-touchers daein the business in here when A'm tryin tae soart ma fuckin life oot.’

He jumped up and grabbed the bucket. After filling it with cold water from the tap, he threw the water over the door of the cubicle.

Yells of, " for fuck sake man"

and " Ya bastard, whit the fucks goan oan ?"

Came from behind the door before it was pulled open, and two half drowned men came dripping out. One had a towel round his shoulders and the other was holding a comb and a pair of scissors. The guy with the towel stared at Russell, who was still holding the bucket.

" Whit the fuck did yie dae that fur? Are yie goan aff yir fuckin heid or sumhin?. Yi've jist fuckin soaked the pair ae us."

Russell took in the towel, and the comb and scissors, but even now, after realising his mistake he had to tell the truth.

" Listen boys, A thought yiz were two ‘Harry Hoofs’ huvin it aff in the lavie there, it sounded awffie like it by-ra-way, It did, honest tae God."

The guy with the scissors answered, " A wiz cuttin his hair fur fuck sake. We were hidin in there because, if yie dae it oot in the open, everybody wants their hair cut, and by-ra-way A'm no a fuckin poof, and neither is he. Urr yie Davy?"

Davy, holding his hands out and shaking his wet head, answered." Fur fuck sake, A try tae git ma hair cut fur the legion dance the morra night, this fuckin hydro-maniac, throws a bucket ae water ower me, as if a wiz a dug ootside daein somthin inapprpriate in front ae the weans, and you, ya fuckin arsehole, ask me if A'm a fuckin poof, A'm no huvin a great day the day, am A?"

Russell, after making his apologies, slinked away back down the stairs, dropping the bucket as he went. The two "lovers" watched him go with wide eyes and shaking heads.

Russell worked away till finishing time and after clocking out, he strolled into the car park. A guy was opening his boot, he removed a magnetic taxi sign and stuck it to his roof, and then he opened the driver’s door and drew a cable from inside, which he connected to the sign. He got in the driver’s door and the sign illuminated.

Russell stared in amazement. The answer to his problem was right in front of him.

“That's whit A'll dae, A'll drive a taxi. A'll make a bloody fortune in nae time. Those guys are aw loaded, whit, wie there fancy shiny caurs, they must make a fortune right enough. Aye that's the answer.”

He drove home and took the yellow basin from the kitchen sink. He found black paint in the shed and painted
‘For Hire’ on the basin. He took a piece of wood and screwed a strip light to it, before securing it to the inside of his For Hire sign. He attached a wire, which he connected to a switch inside the car.

The basin sat precariously on the roof, he took two elastic luggage straps and after connecting them to the basin, he stretched them and secured them to the gutters. He leaned inside the Cortina and switched on the sign. The basin shone brightly, with the words "For Hire" perfectly illuminated.

"Ya dancer", he pumped his hands and mimicked, " eh! Where to folks? Whitburn. Okay, that'll be a fiver then. Whit's that? Take the tenner, Thank you very much."

He slapped his hands together and danced around the garden. ‘A'll make a fuckin fortune,’ he thought.

That night, Russell jumped in to his Cortina "Taxi" and drove to Harthill Main Street. He stopped outside the Doxy public house with his ‘begging light’ illuminated. It wasn't long before two couples approached him and after opening the doors they got in. Wullie Jameson sat beside him in the front.

" Oh it's yirsell Russell, A didnae know yie were a taxi driver ma man."

"Oh aye," answered Russell, A've been dain it a while noo, where are yiz gaun?"

"Eh, Whitburn Miners Club mate thanks." And so it began.

He worked away for two or three hours, he had made an easy thirty pounds and was thoroughly enjoying himself, until, suddenly, a blue light was spinning brightly behind him. ‘Shit, he thought, just when I was doing well, these fannies, have to turn up.’

It was the traffic cops. Russell pulled in and got out of the car, he stood beside the driver’s door and waited. The two cops put their hats on and began to walk towards him. One policeman walked around the car, while the other stopped to chat.

" Evening Sir, having a busy night?"

" A busy night? Whit dae yie mean Officer?"

" Wie yir taxi here, are yie having a good night? Are yie making a fortune?"

" Taxi? Whit taxi?" asked Russell.

The other cop was pinging the luggage rack elastic; he looked over to Russell and asked, " How long have you been a taxi driver Sir?"

" Whit is this? yeeze keep askin aboot taxi's, whit urr yiz askin aboot taxi's fur? "

"Yi've been drivin in between Harthill and Whitburn aw night, pickin people up and takin them here and there, that's taxiing, is it no?"

" A've drapped a coupla mates aff at the Whitburn Miners Club, that's aw, that's no taxiing."

" yi've gote a taxi sign oan yir roof Sir, diz that no make yie oot tae be a taxi ?"

" A've gote a basin oan ma roof officer, no a taxi sign"

" But it clearly says ‘For Hire’ on it Sir."

" Aye A know" said Russell..." The basin’s for hire."