Another Taxi Episode

We have two kinds of taxis here: metered and unmetered. The metered ones are brand new cars, with stripes down the hood, so they're easily spotted at a distance. I like the metered taxis, because I know that the car will not break down, and that I'm getting a fair price. And the metered taxi drivers tend not to yell at me as much as the unmetered taxis.

I hailed a metered taxi today and hopped in, asking him to take me to the hospital to see the baby. :) He was on his cell phone and just nodded at me (the driver, not the baby). No big deal, except that talking on the cell phone without a hands-free set is illegal here. And with their insane style of driving, I appreciate that law. I guess it's not that big of a deal that he was talking on his phone, except that, well, I guess I expect the metered taxis to be a bit more professional (ie, legal).

He was also driving with his left foot up on the dashboard. Call me a hypocrite, because when driving long distance in the US, I tend to do this as well. But never in heavy traffic with round a bouts, and never while on the phone! (And again, unmet expectations of professionalism).

Even more disconcerting was the fact that he was using the word "Mafia" quite a lot in his conversation. I didn't recognize his language (it wasn't Arabic or Hindi or Urdu), and granted: the word "Mafia" could be a word in their language and not have been adopted from the English... but it was freaking me out.

He hangs up his phone and immediately looks up at me in the rear view mirror with a big smile. Not a friendly neighbor smile, but a garbage truck man smile (see previous post).

"What country you, miss?"

Do I have to answer? Can I pretend I don't speak English? Can I pretend to be deaf? I guess my having said "the hospital" earlier would throw all that out the window.

*inward spirit sigh*

"America."

"OOOOHHHH!!! Verrrrryyyy goooddd!!!" Very good, as in, "you'll do very nicely. I'll kidnap you and sell you off for a good dollar price."

How badly would one get hurt from rolling out of a moving taxi?

He is trying very hard to talk with me and make eye contact (by turning around and looking at me directly instead of say, WATCHING THE ROAD). I really can't remember anything he said, because I was concentrating very hard on not looking at him, looking very disinterested in the conversation, and figuring out how to escape the taxi if the need should rise.

He soon pulled up to the hospital and I jumped out as quickly as possible, not even waiting for change. He gave me the heebee jeebees.

I think a car might be a good investment.