Jaunt with scum

Greetings lesser people...recently I was called upon to attend one of those most somber and disastrous affairs, a wedding. How in this day and age any two people could feel the need to stand before a minister and exchange such cliched drivel so that they may be forever bound in matrimony baffles me. Do you really believe the day won't come where you shall rise with the dawn, look across your bedchamber at your spouse, and not summon your servant at once to bring the retching bowl? Ejecting your former beloved is always such a tawdry affair, usually accompanied with hysterics and broken furniture. Hence in my younger years, when I made the mistake of entering into "relationships", I would take care to end matters in hotels, so that any destruction would cost me little, and in fact provide some amusement.

My usual driver had come down with a rather vicious strain of heartburn, the result of my pouring motor oil down his throat, (prank gone awry), and so I was forced to hire a "taxi", one of those fanciful cars for hire that commoners use so often. My did it have a pungent odor! "I say then," I said to the driver upon entering, "there is a fantastic odor emanating from the confines of this automobile!"

He turned to me with a smile, "How are you my friend?"

What a friendly chap! "I'm well thank you for asking! I must say I didn't expect you to be so polite. Now then about the stench...were you driving your grandmother earlier by any chance?"

He ignored my query and began to motor along, and soon I was distracted by the rather fetching form of a tall slim lady crossing a bridge with her tot in tow. I pinched my nose and licked my lips.

The driver spoiled my reverie of maternal buggery with a query of his own. "Did you see that woman?"

I suspected he was going to make some crude common remark about her attractiveness and how he longed to defile her. "Yes."

"She lost a lot of weight my friend. She used to be quite fat."

What an interesting bit of intelligence! Perhaps all commoners were not scum after all, and could be counted on to provide useful facts for when I wanted to debauch low women. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I think she has Aids."

I was somewhat taken aback by his logical leap. "Could she not simply be exercising, or perhaps she is so poor she cannot afford sustenance?"

"No, I think she has Aids."

"Do you know the woman?"

"No."

Fascinating. I began to wonder if this strange fellow was capable of driving me to my destination at all, or whether he planned to annihilate us both by driving into a tree. He then spotted a woman with a bag full of golf clubs. "Hey look! She must golf."

This observation seemed more grounded in fact, but I had my doubts, as I don't trust any woman who engages in sport. "I dare say she has the air of an assassin to me. Is that a 3 iron or a high powered sniper rifle?"

He turned around with eyebrow askew. "Are you fucking crazy man? Maybe she's a caddy or somethin."

I eyed his mouth and longed for a canister of motor oil and a scalding hot funnel. "Listen my good man, what say you keep your filthy mouth shut for the remainder of this trip."

"Whatever you say...you still gotta tip me though."

"Your tip is contingent on the quality of brothel you bring me to after I make my escape from this ceremony. Just know that all this talk of disease has me in the mood for an emaciated lady or two, with vacant eyes."

"I know just the place my friend!"