It was 3.50 am when my cab was hailed by two attractive ladies. They had just stepped out of a night club on the Kings Road, Chelsea, and wanted to be dropped off at two separate locations (their homes), so nothing unusual with the request so far. All continued to be as it should have been, until we dropped the first passenger off at a dark quiet street. I suggested that we waited until the passenger had entered her property and safely closed the door behind her. This was when things turned a little comical…“Yeah we can wait till she gets through the door” said the remaining passenger. She then added “Oh it’s alright, she’s checking her bajangas.” “Checking her bawhatas” was my reply. “If she’s checking her bajangas she’s perfectly ok.” “Oh I see,” I certainly could not deny the fact that she was checking something. “It’s ok driver, you wasn’t to know.” “Wasn’t to know what?” “You wasn’t to know that bajangas mean tits.” Now had she referred to them as threepenny bits, Bristol Cities, jugs, baps, small bits, led zeppelins, mameries, bosoms or jolly bags etc, and I not grasped what she had been talking about, I would have been disappointed with myself, but not being aware of the bajanga term was in my opinion a forgivable sin ! At this point, I was starting to think that I might be on the receiving end of a wind-up, so it seemed logical to check my rear view mirror and check out my passenger’s facial expression. There was no eye- to- eye contact, because my passenger was now looking at her own chest and checking out her own tits, sorry her own bajangas …. She eventually looked up and made eye contact with me. Before I could say a word, she took it upon herself to inform me that her bajangas were ok too. At this point, different things started to run through my mind, and one thought was that this was possibly an after- effect of the Icelandic volcano eruption ? “So err.. this self boob groperage, it’s all the rage now is it ?” “Oh yeah it’s going on in all the trendy bars and clubs.” “Oh, right.” By now it was 4 am, and I was south of the river. I made a quick executive decision, and decided that there was no way I was going to miss out on this new craze that was apparently sweeping London’s club land. “So if your mate’s bajangas are ok, and your bajangas are ok, surely the only thing left to do is for me to check that my bajangas are ok ? “Yeah it would be a crime if you didn’t, driver.” Well I thought the crime rate in South London was high enough, and the last thing I wanted to do was get pulled over on a bajanga violation ! There was only one thing left to do… Yep you guessed it.. wait for the next red traffic light and give myself the full on bajanga inspection. Duly the red light came and with the cab now in a safe stationary position, the inspection began. At first I placed my right hand on my left man boob, sorry left bajanga, and with a firm grip moved the hand up and down. All seemed to be ok, I did the same with my left hand on my right bajanga. The traffic light then turned to amber, so I quickly placed both hands on both bajangas for a double bajanga juggle. The light turned to green and with a great sense of relief I informed my passenger that all was ok upfront ! “What ?” “Oh you weren’t to know, but I’ve just given myself a thorough bajanga going-over and it’s safe to say that there are no alignment issues upfront, my love.” I received a reassuring wink from my now very impressed passenger. And once again my mind began to wonder. Was I on a crest of a wave ? Was bajanga checking going to become a nationwide phenomena ? Only time will tell……
The one thing I was aware of, was the fact that there were now three people in London who had bajangas where they were supposed to be, and that meant that I could proceed deeper in to South London. At this point my face was wearing a cheeky smile, and my mind satisfied with the fact that I’d been gifted with some bajantastic blog material !
SPECIAL THANKS TO SP+W FOR PRODUCING THE ABOVE CARTOON. SP+W can be contacted at the following link www.andnot.co.uk
