People lie. There’s no way around it, they lie to themselves, and they lie to their limousine driver.

The lies start small, and expand like insulating foam to fill the void. A common lie is “Oh, we’ll only be four hours, we want to be home by nine-thirty.”

This one happened Monday night. A man celebrating his 34th birthday with his wife and some friends began with the intention of being home early.

At 1:30 am, while I was in the car park of Cheetahs, I contemplated the change of mind. All along they knew it was to be a big night, but couldn’t bring themselves to admit it. When I collected them at 5:30 pm, and dropped their kids at Grandma’s place, it was clear they were out to do some damage. Especially the wife.

The other big lie that starts small is “We’re going to be the easiest customers you ever had.”

This, more than any other statement, puts me on edge. Why? Because one man’s “easy” is another man’s two hours on the back of the clock cleaning up the shit left by ferals lucky enough to scrape up the four hundred bucks to hire me for five hours.

These people use every glass in the limousine. They smoke. They put their feet on the ceiling – don’t ask me why. They insert crushed Goldfish into every seat crevice and still complain that the radio doesn’t tune correctly.

“You’ve been great,” they say, handing me a five and five ones. “Next time, we’re gonna ask for you.” * hic *

Yessir, and next time I’m unavailable.