A few weeks ago I entered the public passenger vehicle being driven by one of your native cab drivers aka taxi man. That particular day found me feeling wonderful enough to the point where I thought that I would have been friendly to the rudest of the rude. I was however in for a very ‘loving’ surprise from you and this particular native who will be called from here on out, the Duti taxi man.
Let me do this in time spans.
This suburban girl, *points to self* was about 30 minutes, by car, away from her destination.
After waiting about 5 minutes for a public passenger vehicle, the first one I saw was a cab. I stopped it and hopped in.
*Disclaimer* I usually take the state run bus company but they were late and so was I.
About 15 minutes into into the cab journey, the Duti taxi man started to accelerate the movement of the vehicle. He also started to bob and weave through the traffic as if we were on some dance floor in a dance battle. He was being rather reckless.
A minute or so later, one of the other passengers asked for a stop and it so happened that all the other passengers had reached their destination and in one piece. Whooptido!!
So there I was, roughly 14 minutes away from my destination discussing with my inner self what I should do. Should I stop him and take another cab or ask this man to be a responsible driver.
Because I was feeling “wonderful enough”, I asked the Duti taxi man kindly and nicely to take it easy and remember that there was someone else *me* in the cab. I told him I was uncomfortable with the manner in which he put his lead foot on the gas pedal and that he was driving too fast for my liking. (This took about a minute and a half).
The Duti taxi man then felt it was important and necessary to raise his voice at me, spew rotten expletives and tell me about my john brown hind parts.
At this point, I was livid to the point where (at a stop light) I returned the raised voice, rotten expletives and also reminded him of his john brown hind parts. Dear World, please bear in mind that I hail from Suburbia, so the most rotten of rotten expletives and information about whosoever’s john brown’s hind parts is always done firmly yet tactfully. I was NOT gonna get shamed by this low life Duti taxi man.
By this time (i forget how many minutes had passed), I instructed the Duti taxi man to stop his car on the corner from the stop light. I stepped out, slammed the door told him another rotten expletive and walked the rest of the way to my destination.
You were quite cruel to me that day as the moment I stepped out of that car was the moment the temperature on the outside rose by too many degrees for it to be okay for me to walking in an unsettled frame of mind while being burnt by the sun. I however walked with my head held high and made it to my destination a bit sweaty, but safe and in one piece.
A lesson taught to me by my father long ago was put to good use that day: Don’t ever allow a driver to play with your life; tell them off if they do it first, hold your ground and exit stage left.
World. Darling, Not much soft love was felt, but I take it as tough love. I appreciate it. I know you’ll always love me and I’ll always love you…well, sometimes.
Signed with love,
*Duti/Dutti – disgusting or uncouth