L is for Len
A taxi driver who knows his footy, his friend who has one of those new camera phones, and a 25 year old ad creative who worked late so he could expense a Pad See Ew and get a Cabcharge.
A long while back - high on the publication of some haikus - I tried to get McSweeney’s to give me a column where I did series of fictional stories called the A-Z of Australian masculinity. It didn’t take, but I wrote a few of them anyway. This one - L is for Len - is about a Sydney taxi driver who trades footy tips advice for nude photos with a sex worker he knows.
My friends Annika and Raoul gave me the honour of reading it out loud at their impromptu wedding in New York in 2014. It was so wildly off tone that I reckon it sort of worked.
Here’s the audio version:
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L is for Len
Len sits in the TAB on Harris St studying the overs and unders.
His friend Belle's in a tipping comp with the other girls from Stilettos.
She's at the top of the ladder and Len wants to help her win the thing.
He makes some notes with a pencil, then pulls out his phone and types out a text message: "Eels, Bunnies, Warriors, Raiders, Broncos and Manly - but fuck Manly ;)"
He gets back in his cab, drives up the road and picks up a young bloke going to Surry Hills.
The young bloke asks how his day’s been and Len tells him. He explains that the prize money is a few hundred odd bucks and he knew that Belle could use it to do something nice for her young fella who's just learnt how to walk.
The young bloke says that Len was a good friend for helping Belle out.
Len says that she was a great girl and admitted that — though he never asked — if the tips were good she'd sometimes text message him a photo of her tits.
Len stops at lights on Goulburn St, hands the young bloke his Nokia and asks if he'd like to see.
The young bloke nods, takes the phone, looks at the screen and says that she seems very nice.
Len's cab pulls up at the corner of Riley and Albion — and the young bloke hands back the phone, reaches for his wallet.
As the young bloke gets out of the cab, Len tells him that knowing Belle made his day, every day. He says that maybe — today — she's made his day too. The young bloke nods, says he reckoned she had.
The car door shuts and Len puts his phone away. He indicates left and heads up Albion St, toward South Dowling and on to the airport.