Assuming you could understand what they were actually saying.
I know that I am not the only one that has bad luck with cab drivers. I have also heard my share of stories from friends. Martin, for example, after work one night was asked in a thick Middle Eastern accent 'You like to party?'
That's not a question you want to be asked by an immigrant stranger, who's cab you have just got into, alone, at 4 a.m.
Last nights / this morning's ride home was so bad, that it inspired this post. We will call the driver Omar, for lack of another racially stereotypical name. Also, that was his name as indicated by the large, laminated licence that I think is handed out automatically to anybody entering this country from that area of the world.
Customs Agent: "Welcome to Canada, where are you from?"
Omar: "Pakistan."
Customs Agent: "Here's your cab licence."
It's the same reason why Asian people are instantly given the deed to an Asian restaurant, or convenience store.
I'm sorry, but sometimes, stereotypes are true.
Back to the cab:
Now, many of you, I'm sure, are familiar with the 'Cab Etiquette' bylaws. The laminated sign posted on the back of the passenger seat of all Taxis in the city. The ones that indicated how the Taxi and it's driver should operate. This, as many of you know, is very rarely the case.
We can go over exactly how Omar broke most of those rules. (I am paraphrasing the rules, slightly).
"A knowledgeable driver, who speaks English and knows city geography."
I would gather, since he asked me where Broadview and Danforth was 13 times, his geography is slightly off. Made more evident when finally he said he knew where it was, and then turned the car around and proceeded East from Danforth and Dawes. The complete wrong direction.
Needless to say that speaking English was not one of Omars skills and talents. But then, neither is listening, driving, or personal hygene.
"A safe driver, who obeys traffic laws"
Excellent rule. Very important if you choice, as a passenger, to arrive at your intended destination alive.
Omar was much more concerned with answering his cell phone, and talking very loudly into it then actually paying attention to lights, other cars, and the two people he almost hit at the corner of Pape and Danforth. Even after the near miss, he was oblivious. Happily chatting away while the two people moved to the sidewalk and tried to re-start their hearts.
Omar also seemed to have a problem staying in one lane. Or, at least the RIGHT lane. He was in a hurry, this much I gathered. So much so that Omar would continuioisly vear into on-coming traffic in an effort to get around the cars in front of him. Cars that were, for all intensive purposes, driving safely. Omar, however, needed to maintain his speed of approximatly 234 MPH down the Danforth. It's the best speed to drive when you are talking on your phone.
"Driver uses Cell phone only in an Emergency
I can say this: In the cabbie world, Omar is a really popular guy. He may be the Brad Pitt of Taxi drivers. Despite his body odour that rivals the smell of the indoor Rhino exhibit at the zoo, and his lack of any intelligence whatsoever.
"A quiet ride, if you request it"
Besides the aformentioned cell phone use, Omar was rocking out to some music.
In fact, he had found the best station possible. It was playing Mohammed G - Kenny G's not quite as talented Middle Eastern equivelent. And it was LOUD.
I asked him to turn it off, and he was nice enough to reply: "What?"
After I sharaded my way through an explaining of what I wanted him to do before I threw myself from the cab, he obliged, and I was treated to the shreiks of another ethnic music. It made for lovely ambient noise, perfectly underlying Omar's phone converstaion.
"A clean taxi interior"
Omar liked to smoke, that was apperent from the cigarette buts that filled the ashtry, and the floor of the front seat. I'm a smoker, so I can't judge.
But whoever was in the back, really liked chips. And had eaten at least 13 bags, all of which were scattered across the floor.
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And why did I not just get out? Some things are so aggrivating, and beyond beliefe that you just need to stick with them.
Now, I'm going to get some chicken balls and a soda.
talk soon
x's and o's
-Remy
