I love cab rides for the most part. I'm infactuated with the concept of someone picking you up and taking you where you want to go. Who doesn't?
But on this particular day, on my way to the airport I had the coolest cab ride ever.
He was just a perfect 3 minutes early knowing that I would panic and go into my A-type personality mode, if I didn't see him outside exactly on time. As I walked up to his big yellow Lincoln, he jumped out of his driver's seat. He had uncanny energy for any normal human at 5 o'clock in the morning. Moreover, he seemed to be in a hurry. Cab drivers never seem to have or understand your sense of urgency. Well, this guy did and it seemed as automatic as his gears.
He asked where I was going. I sensed an accent but I completely understood what he was asking. I responded LAX and he made an immediate u-turn. Perfect! Didn't even wait to drive to a drive way. Nope. Right then and there. This, of course, signaled that the guy knew exactly how to get to the airport.
Although the smell of fresh cigarette smoke was killing me, he made it up to me asking "Are you Spanish or Italian?" I said "Spanish, Italian, Mexican, all of the above". His next question "Julio Iglesias or something or other". I said I perfred to hear Italian, something different. He then shuffled through his CD case of burned CDs, all while driving 65 on La Cienega and popped in a CD. He skipped through 5 songs playing 2 seconds of each before he picked a song. It had a strange start to it. I wouldn't even call it music but rather sound effects of a bag of very large thick foreign coins being dragged through some kind of third world machine but I like different and the sounds did fall into a rhythm. The beat and vocals then came in and it was a woman's voice. Oh! He had me pegged. It was the coolest tune ever.
He was working for a big tip. It seemed he knew exactly how much I had in my pocket and he knew just how he was going to get every nickel of it and he did. My guess is he was Russian. We got to the airport. He jumped out again beating me to the sidewalk as I grabbed my bag, digged for my wallet and took two twenties out. He stood outside with my bag from the trunk, in his hand he had my blank receipt and a refrigerator magnet with a one eight hundred number in big bold red numbers across the front. I was in such a daze of amazement that I felt he was giving me his private number and inviting me to come out on another cab date with him. I was ready to accept.
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But on this particular day, on my way to the airport I had the coolest cab ride ever.
He was just a perfect 3 minutes early knowing that I would panic and go into my A-type personality mode, if I didn't see him outside exactly on time. As I walked up to his big yellow Lincoln, he jumped out of his driver's seat. He had uncanny energy for any normal human at 5 o'clock in the morning. Moreover, he seemed to be in a hurry. Cab drivers never seem to have or understand your sense of urgency. Well, this guy did and it seemed as automatic as his gears.
He asked where I was going. I sensed an accent but I completely understood what he was asking. I responded LAX and he made an immediate u-turn. Perfect! Didn't even wait to drive to a drive way. Nope. Right then and there. This, of course, signaled that the guy knew exactly how to get to the airport.
Although the smell of fresh cigarette smoke was killing me, he made it up to me asking "Are you Spanish or Italian?" I said "Spanish, Italian, Mexican, all of the above". His next question "Julio Iglesias or something or other". I said I perfred to hear Italian, something different. He then shuffled through his CD case of burned CDs, all while driving 65 on La Cienega and popped in a CD. He skipped through 5 songs playing 2 seconds of each before he picked a song. It had a strange start to it. I wouldn't even call it music but rather sound effects of a bag of very large thick foreign coins being dragged through some kind of third world machine but I like different and the sounds did fall into a rhythm. The beat and vocals then came in and it was a woman's voice. Oh! He had me pegged. It was the coolest tune ever.
He was working for a big tip. It seemed he knew exactly how much I had in my pocket and he knew just how he was going to get every nickel of it and he did. My guess is he was Russian. We got to the airport. He jumped out again beating me to the sidewalk as I grabbed my bag, digged for my wallet and took two twenties out. He stood outside with my bag from the trunk, in his hand he had my blank receipt and a refrigerator magnet with a one eight hundred number in big bold red numbers across the front. I was in such a daze of amazement that I felt he was giving me his private number and inviting me to come out on another cab date with him. I was ready to accept.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
1 comment:
I know it's a bit late, but I must agree that that was a cool experience, Sylvia! The cab driver was very nice. He really knew how to entertain a passenger like you. Sometimes, it’s hard to find a cool driver that could kick your boredom away.
Sabra Divis
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