(continued from last week…)

Free From Garbage

I had just arrived in San Francisco to work and was catching a taxi from the airport to a meeting I had downtown. I was a bit keyed up thinking of the meeting and all that needed to be accomplished in the short period of time I would be there.

Riding in a taxi can be a very interesting experience if you’ve ever ridden in taxis much, and there are a number of different types of cab drivers. One will talk to you non-stop, mainly because they like to hear themselves talk, they don’t really care what you say – they just like to talk.

Another taxi driver is the one who is totally silent – they don’t want to talk at all. They don’t really like to be asked questions, which you can tell by their nasty tone of voice quite often if you do ask a question.

Then there’s the driver who is in the middle ground – they chat a little, they have a pleasant demeanor, they respond easily to questions you ask or make comments about things. What I didn’t know about this current driver I was riding with that day was that he was also a philosopher.

Close Call

We had exited the freeway and were driving in the right lane on a four lane street. The traffic was very heavy. This was rush hour in the morning. If you’ve never been in rush hour in San Francisco, it’s a treat – all the lanes were packed and it swung between racing and creeping.

Suddenly, a car leaped out of a parking spot right in front of us. My cab driver slammed on the brakes, the tires screeched and the car slid and it began to veer sideways. He somehow managed to keep us in our lane without swiping the parked cars or the one in the lane beside us.

When we came to a stop his bumper was literally inches from hitting the other car. The driver of the car who had slammed on his brakes was about 70% out of the parking space at an angle in the road. The car was one of those big old boat Cadillac’s from the early ‘60s. It was dented and scratched, very scruffy and nasty looking with windows tinted so black I’m not shocked that the driver pulled out in front of us, I’m surprised he could even see out of the car.

Nastiness Personified

The driver of the caddy flung his door open, jumped out of the car and stood there threatening and yelling at us. He called my taxi driver half a dozen foul names, flipped us off, jumped back in his car and gunned it. He nearly hit the car in the next lane as he bulldozed his way into traffic.

My driver chuckled, smiled a bit and shook his head. He just waved to the guy as he drove off and he kind of laughed to himself and said, “Some people.” I said “Well, that’ll wake you right up, won’t it?”

He laughed, and then he said “This happens all the time, you can’t let those characters get to you. I know drivers who let one thing like this first thing in the morning ruin the rest of the day. You have to let it go and just keep going.”

(to be continued…)

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