Dienstag, Mai 27, 2008

Taxi Drivers

May 27/08 8:58 p.m.

The taxi driver, who picked up moml yesterday and had made that sightseeing tour around the neighbourhood villages before finding our village and who would never have found our house, if I had not waited outside to wave him in and then could not handle his navi device for the return trip, reminded me of a taxi driver, we once encountered in Toronto. The night before leaving for Europe we stayed at a hotel quite a ways outside of the city. At night for dinner we wanted to have some seafood after all the meat we had been feasting on in South Dakota, so we picked a wharfside restaurant downtown, which was a moored, former passenger liner. Since moml could not wait the 5 min. it took for the taxi to come, which the hotel desk guys called for us, he insisted on taking one waiting at the parking lot. So we ended up with an, probably nearly blind, East Indian driver, who first failed to get where he should take us and finally decided to just make a run for it, all the time while driving putting his finger to his nose, pointing straight and right and left and mumbeling should I go tis-a-way or tat-a-way or maybe street, oh my, Toronto ise sooo big". I sat in the back blowing my cheeks to keep me from having a laughing fit. Finally he called his office and then started to ask other taxi drivers at red lights. He managed to get us there in the end and the ship turned out to be an old Tito times passenger liner which somehow must have gotten stuck in Toronto along with the waiters and all. And the waiter barked at us just like they did in the former east block, but the food had been good.
So, memories are made of this and the yesterday taxi driver had been a foreigner too. Nothing against foreigners, I am not prejudiced.

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