Tuesday, July 21, 2009

I really hate taxi drivers

I continue to have bad experiences with these guys.

My friend Theresa and I were returning from dinner to the center city Friday and we get a cab. No problem. We tell him where we want to go and we set off. No problem. But Friday night is busy, the going was slow and we seemed to be meandering up and down one-way streets. So we decide to get out where we are -- about three blocks short of our destination -- and walk. I say "Here is OK," in my horrible Bosnian and the driver just goes freaking beserk.

Even my Bosnian teacher does not get that upset with my stinky accent. He was snarling, yelling and scrunching up his face. Really, I was afraid as I was in the front seat.

Theresa in the back can actually speak Bosnian and she starts in with : What is your problem? We have just changed our minds. Hey, stop, I am the customer and you are the driver! And he's yelling. It was such a scene. He finally veers off onto the sidewalk and slams to a halt. You are so rude! i finally manage to get in one dig as we get out.

What in the world was that all about?

Well, it could be that we are foreigners or women or that we implied he was ripping us off by driving around the traffic jam. Hurt pride sparks that kind of violent reaction here.

Saturday morning provided quite a contrast when we took a taxi to Barice. We piled into the back -- including Miranda's muzzled dog -- and her uncle got into the front seat and began chatting up the driver. They were going on about the horsepower and his experience as a cabbie and he was smiling and friendly.

I just lack the knack of getting along with these guys.

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