A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

Replacement Driver – Miriam Spickler

Replacement Driver


Miriam Spickler is a “replacement driver” who makes her living these days by delivering inebriated people and their cars home. There are tens of thousands of Miriam Spicklers operating in this hard-drinking metropolis of 4 million people. Ever since the ‘it’s not what we are drinking but how we are drinking’ campaign New Zealanders have really embraced the concept of not drinking and driving. Maybe, for women, it was the sight of the young woman vomiting out the back of that cab, but it has been particularly successful with the fairer sex. Now, as the city neon clocks sign off from one a.m. they are accompanied by the ringing of cell phones around city centres where drinking establishments are sprinkled as inebriated patrons ring for the replacement drivers to get them and their expensive Porches, Audi’s, Mercedes, and Mazda RX’s, home.

Miriam Spickler has no delusions about her status in life. Recently made redundant from her job as a research chemist she now is of very low status. As well as her low status Miriam and other replacement drivers have an obvious occupational hazard: their customers can become abusive. Miriam herself has on numerous occasions stopped in traffic and simply walked away, leaving customers raving incoherently in the back of their own cars because of a missed or crunched gear, a tire on the pavement, a near miss with someone who has not availed themselves of the replacement driver service.

Occasionally Miriam Spickler will be called by a drunken male and, inevitably, he will hit on her. For a former research chemist Miriam Spickler has had to develop a whole range of skills for her new CV. Whereas formerly such things as ‘proficient in Excel, PowerPoint, SPSS’ were her stock in trade she now relies more heavily on ‘recent martial arts course’ and ‘advanced automobile detailing’ for job advancement. Not that it pays very well. When payment can be collected Miriam Spickler might be lucky to collect $20 a delivery and $500 a week is about average.

PRICKLY ROSE a blogger from Auckland who has worked in corporate all over the world is one of Miriam Spicklers idols. Well, really her only idol. Some of Prickly Roses quotes which have particularly tickled Miriam Spicklers imagination.

“On cyclists

– can’t stand cyclists. Rude, arrogant, think that roads are for them and the taxpayer has to pay for their divine right to put their lycra on, strap silly shoes to their pedals and ride. I have news for them. They look stupid, they smell when they get to work and guess what? We don’t want to see your bike and your helmet in the workplace cubicle or anywhere near a table at a restaurant.

Why so passionate about bikes over the motor vehicle? And now these vigilantes are to have a $50 million Snail Trail courtesy of a dumb idea from a real estate agent Mr Graham Wall who I imagine will never get out of his leased late model European car to join cyclists around Auckland. Because guess what, he can’t show clients around luxury homes …… on a bicycle! Real estate salespeople need cars. “

On the recent overweight Somali hi jacker who sparked a very public debate about increasing airline security on domestic flights – a plan that would dramatically increase the price of domestic flights.

“Drunks, people with a metal illness and those holding an excessive grudge posed the biggest threat on domestic flights.
Well ban drunks. Those with severe mental illness and those nut bars from flying, or
A far easier solution would be to give the head steward and the pilot a gun so mad bitches like this can just be shot on sight.
A $5 a flight increase per flight is enough to justify deportation of the bludging Somali refugee. Why wait until September? Move the trial forward.”

On taking cocaine –

“Generally heavy users of cocaine are not that concerned about their own health, why would they give a f**k about destroying a piece of a renewable rainforest?
I say to Colombians, it’s a business and you need the forest to hide your dens in ——- simply plant more trees.

On Mexico and swine flu

“Pigs have given President Obama now has the largest chance he will get to legitimately close the border with the hell hole of Mexico. The least pleasant place I have visited so far on the Earth (Bulls and Marton included).”

On the IRD
“The IRD are a gutter scum government department. They are agents of legalised theft. Those too thick to join tax accounting firms or dropkicks from academia. Smart IRD agents get up and leave for fear of the standard of their colleagues. And smart IRD agents are better to deal with than the stupid ones who read parliament intent into every piece of the Act and start from the position always that the taxpayer has to pay what they want them to pay until they prove beyond reasonable doubt they don’t.”

On Fat People

“I boarded an old style Cathay Pacific long haul plane where the seats in business class are lying flat but right next to each other with minimal division and privacy. Air New Zealand of course has superior seats in Business Premier as they are separate and therefore more female friendly.

To my disgust on rolled an obese Australian man who would have tipped the scales at 140kg. He parked his lard arse and bearded face next to me. Shaking in anticipation of the night ahead I warmed up the earplugs (a man that fat just HAS to snore) and changed into my pyjamas. No way were they coming off. He had already parked his fat arms all over the shared arm seat.

After take-off I slipped the seat into bed mode and off to Noddyland I went.

Only to be woken with a large arm resting not so gently on my shoulder just inches from my breast. Disgusting. This obese piece of horrible form was never going to be able to sleep in his allotted space. He was too fat and fat men don’t sleep easily. In revulsion I used both my arms and threw his fat smelly grubby paw off me and tried to put the very small divider down between us but he resisted.

It was quite obvious to me that it was unintentional as the Sleeping Mammoth was snoring his head off so there is no need to press criminal charges as I would of had I been from Hand Mirror or in an Arab state (I recall a Western man was jailed for a similar unintentional act). His snoring continued, failing to be drowned out by engine noise and ear plugs. When he woke he would breathe but so fat he was that he would make a groaning sound on expelling air.

Now is the time for woman travelling alone on aircraft to demand that

a) we are only seated next to really hot men, or
b) a spare seat is left next to us if no one is suitable to be seated next to.

If it is good enough for unaccompanied children then it is good enough for us.

While I do not wish for this man to end up in a jail, I think a complaint letter to Cathay Pacific asking for my concerns to be relayed to the man in question is an appropriate action.”

On the state of the work restroom

“Every fucking day I go in there for the last 4 weeks and the hand towel is lying on the floor. The lazy Chinese son of a bitch who I hear was a doctor or lawyer or something in his own country (where he should be now sucking up pig flu) hasn’t the brain cells to get a new key to the towel dispenser and PUT THE TOWEL in it. God! Why do we allow people like this into our country so they can moan and whine about prejudice and discrimination? “

On foreigners

“A Chinese nursing student is taking her tutors and university to the Human Rights Commission, accusing them of failing her in her final year of her bachelor of nursing course because of her accent.

“My tutors failed me because they said the way that I speak meant people couldn’t understand me, and they said it meant I will not be able to provide proper care to patients,” said Linda Tang, 42, who last week decided to drop out of her course at Unitec because she believed the tutors were making it impossible for her to pass.

“To say my English is not good enough is just an excuse. I feel that what they have done is discriminatory, especially to the Chinese, because we are penalised not for our lack of knowledge or ability, but simply because of how we talk.”

I feel very sorry for Ms Tang who is obviously keen to be a nurse. But the ability to communicate in English is important, and some accents can make it very very difficult for others to understand.”

The real Prickly Rose is currently circulating quite close to Miriam Spickler and their orbits are bound top collide.

A scene from within the Prickly Rose camp.

“Bit pissed really”, Prickly Rose aka utters Samantha Obering-Tate as she lurches through the door of Cancum the upmarket Cuban restaurant featuring genuine Cuban cuisine.

“What the f’’’k do Cubans know about cooking is way beyond me’, she scowls as she down a Dirty Monkey ay $38 a shot and puffs on her Bachillere. She felt the 3 ½ doz Foveaux strait oysters she had already consumed mix with the alcohol.

Is it rum or whisky or vodka’ she thought to herself and had a slight touch of reflux as she opened the menu.

Meanwhile Miriam Spickler was but two blocks away engaged in an animated conversation with her co-worker (they worked in teams sometimes so one drove the client’s car, the other the car that would retrieve the target driver).

“My karate will disintegrate your genitals,” screeched Yi-Lin, spiky black hair, red jersey, bright crimson lip stick, tight black trousers, lace up canvas combat boots in contrast to Miriam Spicklers more formal jacket and suit pants, loafer, no makeup, hair tied tightly back.

“And what do you think that’s going to do to your and mine bottom line Yi Lin. If you attack all our customers, word will spread. Pretty soon Spickler and Young will be Spick and Span”

She giggled at her own little joke and thought that her imaginary idol could use that in one of her blogs – then again Prickly Rose would have thought of something altogether smarter. Why – she hobnobbed with practical royalty and led a sophisticated life in Asia, Europe and occasionally New Zealand.

Prickly Rose has a moustache

Prickly Rose has offensive body odour.

Although Miriam Spickler was occasionally offended by some of Prickly Roses missives on fat people,  welfare recipients, deadbeat men, liberals,, or held different opinions to her on politics or religion or anything really. She was a role model at a time when there were few female role models apart from females who may as well have been men.

The conversation continued with Yi-Lin but in the vein of Yi-Lin doing harm to unpleasant customers and Miriam Spickler reminding her to keep a cool head and preserve business.

The call came at 4.27 a.m. A rather slurred and incoherent voice with a pronounced Irish accent loudly demanded that Spickler and Co. were required to ‘get my hot ass home”

Miriam could hear thick male laughter in the background and suspected another difficult end-of-shift encounter with some rich male prick with his wife/mistress/girlfriend and alcohol and bad behaviour. She just hoped that Yi-Lin would behave.

The three of them sat in the back seat of Miriam Spicklers Ford Falcon stretched limo with Yin-Li riding shotgun up front and occasionally adjusting her vanity mirror to monitor the back seat activity which there was an increasing frenzy as they neared the destination tendered by the very intoxicated woman who was clearly the alpha of the group. Sam something was all she had picked up from the heavily moustachioed woman, but her attention was drawn to the rather obese smarmy man in the group who had been repeatedly swearing and making racist and sexist remarks. Yi-Lin was becoming more and more animated as she kept adjusting the mirror and glancing sideways at Miriam. Suddenly Miriam Spickler realised who this grotesque caricature of a man was. He was the prominent journalist and blogger and son of a former Minister of the Crown.

They turned gently down Seaview Drive and passed a fellow replacement driver of obvious Arab descent, ushering a client from the confines of yet another limo into a well appointed residence illuminated by soft lighting. Miriam Spickler thought it summed up what the job was all about, duty, safety, service.

Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of a large burp and then yet another torrent of abuse from the rear seat.

“Fucking immigrants. Can’t get a real job. Have to bludge of the rich. Probably expects a fu***kn tip”

Miriam Spickler blushed and looked sideways at Yi-Lin who was staring into the vanity mirror and clenching and unclenching her tiny fists.

Then her attention was drawn back to the man again and she heard him call the alpha women as Prickly Rose. It couldn’t be. This woman who was now vomiting loudly in the rear seat of her car and the horrible stench of faeces suggested she had lost all control of her bodily functions. Yi-Lin quickly adopted her tigerish pose and looked ready to leap into action.

“Who are yooose looking at ye yellow bitches,” the woman now clearly identified as Prickly Rose gushed as the foul stench of oyster, cigars, salsa, rum and cognac pervaded the cabin space.

Miriam Spicklers world had fallen apart in a latter of hours. She looked at Yi-Lin who smiled gently and whispered into the still night air.
“Careful about what you wish for the prophets say “”If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.”””



  Posts about Real Estate Agent as of June 10, 2009 wrote @

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