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Unable To Rock & Roll With It

, , , , , , , | Right | October 10, 2022

I drive a taxi. One evening, I picked up three men who were all around thirty. They asked me to take them to a well-known gay bar in downtown Copenhagen.

They asked if they could listen to some music. My radio wasn’t working properly, so all I had was my own CD in the CD player. That day, I happened to be listening to Volbeat, which is a bit on the heavy side.

They complained that they don’t want to listen to heavy rock, so I turned it off again. A moment later, they wanted to listen to it anyway, so I turned on the music again. Two minutes later, they again decided that they didn’t want to listen to heavy rock. Again, I turned off the music. When they changed their mind yet again a minute or two later, I just ignored them, as we were only a few minutes from their destination.

When I didn’t turn on the music again at their request, one of them shouted “hate crime” several times. That he used such a term just because he didn’t get everything his own way actually shocked me.

To me, a term like that is not something you should use lightly.

I Wouldn’t Have Even Answered The Phone

, , , , , | Right | September 12, 2022

A friend of mine who is a taxi driver in Copenhagen was woken by a phone call at three in the morning on January first.

Friend: *Very sleepily* “Yes?”

Caller: *Inebriated* “Yeah, hi. You’re still a taxi driver, aren’t you? I drove with you a few months back. It’s impossible to get a taxi right now. Could you come and pick us up?”

Friend: “It’s the middle of the night and I was asleep. Don’t ever call me again. Goodnight.”

Apparently, on an earlier occasion, he had been asked to call the person when he got to the address where he was to pick him up.

My friend learned one lesson: think twice about sharing your private phone number with customers.

I’d Rather You Literally Paid Me With A (UNUSED) Toothpick

, , , , , , | Right | August 18, 2022

I drive a taxi. I picked up an Italian-speaking man at one of the nicer hotels in Copenhagen. After he told me where he was going, he took out a crisp banknote and folded it until he could use it as a toothpick. He spent pretty much the entire trip cleaning his teeth.

When we got to his destination, he tried to use that same banknote as part payment for the ride. Using gestures and my rather broken Italian, I finally made him understand why I wouldn’t even touch that note.

I know full well that most of our bank notes are anything but clean, but this was just gross on a whole new level.

It’s Either A Volkswagen Or A Folks-Walkin’

, , , , | Right | July 30, 2022

One evening, a young couple got into my taxi. Back then, more than 80% of the taxis in Copenhagen were Mercedes-Benz.

A couple of minutes into the ride, the young man asked:

Passenger: “What kind of car is this?”

Me: “It’s a Volkswagen Passat.”

Passenger: “As this is not a Mercedes, I suppose we will get a better price?”

I had already noticed his dialect, which clearly told me that he was from the part of Denmark that the rest of us would politely refer to as “thrifty”.

Me: “The best I can do is to promise that if you behave, I will take the direct route to your destination.”

I was, as always, taking the direct route, but what was I supposed to do? The meter decides the price; I don’t.

The Toenail Tax(i)

, , , , , | Working | July 27, 2022

I was second in line in a row of taxis at a major hospital. A couple of women went to the taxi in front of me, looked in, and then walked to my taxi.

Woman: “Is it okay if we prefer driving with you?”

Me: “Sure, but what’s wrong with the one in front?”

Woman: “He is sitting in his driver’s seat, busy clipping his toenails.”