Adverts, innum?
dick rampant


On the stag in Newquay

By R&H taxi columnist Sherbet Trotter

Posted November 05, 2015
on the stag in newquay, cornwall

It's not just well-mannered rocket scientists that have their stag weekends in Newquay, you know.

Many stag weekends are held in Newquay with most of them passing off without a problem.

There is the occasional punch-up, drunk looking for a lost hotel (see this earlier story, for example), the odd broken bones and the occasional kerb-crawler, as in had to much too drink and cannot stand up as opposed to not had too much to drink and enjoys driving around the streets on his own at night.

So, one night its about 2.30 in the morning and up comes a group of seven blokes, six a little worse for wear but in good spirits, one knobhead – or we shall call him Charliebigpotataoes? – who is obnoxious and tries to get in the cab.

"Oi, oi, mate! We want to go to somewhere about 18 miles away."

"Sorry, mate, I am booked but if you go down to the office they will order you one."

"We don't want to wait. We want one now!"

I repeat without raising my voice.

"I am booked, but if you go down to the office they will order you one."

"Well, they're not here. How much will it be?"

"Look, I've already got a job, and about £54 [$83]."

With that my fare turns up, gets in and Charleybigpotatoes staggers off with the rest of the stag party down the road towards the office.

The Sands, Newquay by Charles Conder
Stag central: A typical Saturday night in Newquay. (Check bottom for credit)

Now, a lot of offices use female controllers and, believe me, they put up with more shit than any other receptionist in any job, whether it's the complaints department of BT or, at the moment, the call centre of VW.

They are expected to understand the drunken, slurring customers who either cannot remember where they are staying or cannot pronounce where they are staying or claim that the cab they booked had not turned up.

99.999999999999% of the time they are either too pissed to be bothered to come outside, have sworn they were there and the driver had not waited or swear they booked it at a different time – they will come out with a million excuses but it is never their fault.

Some cab offices are open for you to sit in.

This can mean they have visual contact.

This sometimes means the controller is the last female they speak to that night.

Some people think this makes the controller fair game.

You can understand why some firms have Fort Knox-type security.

So the point I am getting to is these ladies when working normally have the thickest skin you can imagine and are not easily upset and, trust me, I have worked with a few.

When they finish work they have families at home and are just ordinary grandmothers, mums or daughters or somebody's wife.

"Can you come back and pick up the seven lads you sent down here? Charge the ignorant, arrogant arse whatever you like."

Now, Charleybigpotatoes had gone to the office and within two minutes the controller is on the radio.

"When you are clear, can you come back and pick up the seven lads you sent down here? Charge the ignorant, arrogant arse whatever you like."

I had a slight inkling he had upset her and lucky for him she never came outside because she could mix it with the best of them!

Unfortunately, I was the only driver in an eight-seater.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up.

In they get, by now kebab'd up.

Wild swing
Seconds out: Charleybigpotatoes takes a swing. (Check bottom for credit)

Charleybigpotatoes starts off with the usual wild swing.

"How much is this going to be?"

Sherbet replies with a short jab to the pocket.


Charleybigpotatoes replies with another wild haymaker.

"We only paid £35 when we came in."

Sherbet replies with another quick jab.

"Well, go and get the £35 cab."

Charleybigpotatoes with another wild swing.

"If you get us where we are going without us telling you where it is, we will pay you £54. If not, it's £35."

Sherbet takes a look round and pulls into a lay-by.

Now the odds are 7/1!

Sherbet throws out a big right-hander.

"Right, it's money up front or you all walk and it's about 16 miles."

Charleybigpotatoes with another ambitious punch.

"We're not paying up front till we get there."

Now the referee gets involved, who happens to be the biggest guy in the cab.

He leans forward from the back, obviously pissed off with the stoppage.

"Here, mate. Here's £60. I just want to get home. I will have the change!"

Sherbet takes a breath before the ref takes his change and waves the fight to continue.

Knock out!
Knock out! Sherbet shows Charleybigpotatoes who's boss. (Check bottom for credit)

Charleybigpotatoes now throws his first feeble jab, sounding like the school sneak.

"It's been my mate's stag weekend. We've spent loads of money in the lap-dancing club."

Sherbet with a quick reply to the left.

"Oh well, good for you. I hope you enjoyed it."

Charleybigpotatoes throws another cheap jab.

"And we are coming here in April for my stag weekend."

Sherbet now throws a stream of jabs.

"Oh well, I hope you and your fiancée enjoy watching Newquay Nights this winter. She will be able to see you spending all your money in the lap-dancing club."

Charleybigpotatoes' head rocks to the right.

"What, they don't film there?"

Sherbet with a jab to the other side of the brain.

"Well, of course they do."

Charleybigpotatoes is now on the ropes.

"No. No. No. They don't film there."

Sherbet with the knockout punch.

"Yes, of course they do. Surely you don't think they film sandcastle building and Punch 'n' Judy?"

Silence reigns as Charleybigpotatoes is out for the count, not another word to be spoken!

I only hope the poor fiancée saw sense and done a runner.

Be lucky!

Chief hack's note: And just in case you were wondering what Newquay Nights is like, here's a quick taster, embedded here on the taxi-tastic Rake & Herald from Ripleyripley's YouTube channel, which you can check out here.

Oh, and while I'm about it, that's followed by a Newquay-themed episode of
Booze Britain (in two parts) taken from BoozeyBritainify's suitably named channel that you can stagger around like a drunken cock simply by giving this a click. "Soon after this incident, the Tanks were asked to leave the bar..."

See also Why don't we swop jobs!, posted 29/10/15.

Sherbet Trotter
is a Newquay, Cornwall-based taxi driver who writes books, films and songs and who gave that Rake bloke a lift the other day. We liked the cut of his jib so we immediately gave him a column.

Picture credits

Top and thumb: © Ignatius Rake.

Second: The Sands, Newquay by Charles Conder.

Third: A boxing match at sea by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class David Smart.

Bottom: Boxing in Kirkuk by Petty Officer 1st Class Matthew Leistikow.

For licensing information, click the above links.

Share this story, yeah?


Horse-shaped UFO hits Mexico

volcano ufo

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Or is it a horse? Another anomalous object visits Mexico's volcanoes.

Bowie gone but Monkhouse lives

bob monkhouse returns

Comedy legend Bob Monkhouse returns from grave, footage reveals.

Bang's bastard beards

bang's beards 1 to 6 horrible facial hair parade

Thanks to acid jazz, nu metal and the constant dumbing down of society, ridiculous facial hair is sprouting out all over the place.