Hey Mr. Cab Driver

Trying to bring a bit of perspective to my somewhat biased view of the world, I called the boss and asked for a few cab shifts around Christmas. Also my bank account, after two months of heavy abuse, was well overdue a breath of life.

Central Finland on Christmas

I guess you can call finding yourself in Savonlinna, after a 400e gig, on Christmas morning, a change of pace. Especially when you've got an angry mother shouting at you over the phone for being 300 km away when Christmas dinner starts in 45 min. I figured I'd never make it in time, so I didn't exactly step on it on the return leg. Instead I went to fill'er up with some of that wonderfuel.

The euros buzzed on the meter while I did the teacup-stance refuel. Meanwhile, an age old Volvo entered the scene with a weak drift attempt. A regular farmboy driftking, I thought, as he exited his vehicle, smoking a joint. I raised an eyebrow for the lit up cigarette, as it is considered a hazard to smoke in that sort of area. He then proceeded to insert the fuel pistol into his car with his engine running and cigarette in the other hand. At this point I raised my other eyebrow, giving me a total of one hugely alarmed look, and scurried off into the Audi. The quattro system gave its best to complete my getaway, and only nearly did I steer clear of the huge explosion resulting from the idiot's cigarette meeting his fuel tank. Too bad my cab didn't actually have quattro and the guy didn't really really blow up. Spiced up the story though, didn't it?

People suck pt.2

On another day I got a call for a street name I didn't recognize. I took the call instantly, it was a quiet day and I'd find the street name on our mandatory GPS system. Oddly, when I got to the scene, the number 4 house was nowhere to be seen. Where there's usually 2, 4, 6 and so on, there was A1, A2, A3, etc. I did what I normally do when a wtf strikes and pulled over to wait for anyone exiting a house. I waited for almost six hours. No, I waited for the regular ten minutes and thought fuck it, this is not worth my time. Luckily, as I exited the street from the other end, I noticed a small sign that said "Number 4 located in the inner yard" or whatever the Finnish equivalent. I did what the sign said, and true enough, number 4 was located between the houses and a lady was waiting patiently in the middle of the yard. I let out a few curse words.

After maneuvering the Audi, which, frankly, is as wide as a fishing boat, through the tight playground, I apologized for being late and told the lady the address is a bit hard to find. She said it says 4 on the door. Fair enough. I found my fare anyway, so we left. On the way out I saw another cab trying to fit into the yard. She said that was the other cab she called, since I took so long to find her. At this point I had a hard time not expressing my emotions. I mean, can anyone be so dimwitted as to order a cab into a bloody maze of unfathomable addresses, then wait for 10 minutes and order ANOTHER cab when the first one doesn't show? Haddock would call this person a donkey, and I'd have to agree. It probably never even entered her mind to go and look for the first cab. I imagine these are the people who get run over by parked cars or something similar.