Council Chambers & other matters

I was staying with my brother last week, up north. He's living in a van on the land of a fella who was twenty years a councillor of the local shire. He was also a cab driver during that time, so it's a fair bet he knew everything that was going down in the town.

He had a lot of stories to tell, and one of my favourites was to do with the local bill on legal brothels. Certain councillors were arguing as if it was completely abhorrent to consider the possibility of a brothel in the shire, while our taxi driver was professionally acquainted with over twenty of them in their illegal form.

"Course there's brothels in the town already, you silly bugger.." He was in the process of telling us, in the vein of language he'd used in council five years earlier as a town councillor while discussing the bill. "I've been dropping people off at them for years..."

Mid sentence, as we were being led through the passage of the bill in council years earlier, he grabbed the door frame and a huge exhalation of air passed through him. For several more seconds he clutched the frame and struggled to grab his breath.

"Jesus Christ!" He said, his face returning back through the hues of red to his usual ruddy pink, "sorry about that." Breathing deeply.

"One thing's for sure, if you're sitting on your arse driving cabs for twenty years, you're gonna get a panful of haemorroids."