The World’s Worst Cab Driver
“Do you take credit cards?” I asked as I waited to get in the cab.
“Of course they take credit cards,” the airport attendant answered in a bright, sing-song voice.
Clearly, the cab driver wasn’t happy about my desire to use a credit card.
“You don’t have cash? Don’t you have cash?”
“No, I don’t have cash. I need to pay with a credit card.”
He made a nasty face, shook his head and started to pull away from the curb.
“I can take another cab if you want. You can let me out.”
“No, I’ll be barred from the airport for 30 days if I do that.”
Still grumbling under his breath, the driver slowly left the airport and headed toward downtown Nashville.
We ride in silence for a moment. That is until the driver whips out his cell phone to make a call.
“I got a damn credit card. Yeah, a credit card,” he says into his phone not caring if I can hear him. He huffs. He puffs. He complains about me and my horrible credit card. Eventually he bids farewell to the person on the other end.
At this point I feel like I’m going to explode. Instead, I text my husband and tell him about the rudest cab driver in the world.
We pull up to my hotel and I hand him my credit card. He just stares at it.
“You don’t have any cash?”
“No. No cash.”
He slowly reaches for his credit card machine, shaking his head in disapproval.
“It’s a flat $25.”
“Do you want to add a tip?”
In my head I’m thinking, “Seriously? Did you really just ask me for a tip, seriously?” Instead, I just shake my head and say “No. No tip.”
“No tip?” He looks at me shocked and disgusted.
I can no longer bite my tongue.
“I’m not giving you a tip because you have been rude and disrespectful to me the entire trip?
“Yes, from the moment I stepped in your car you were rude because I requested to pay with a credit card. “
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Dude, you called someone on your phone and made disparaging comments about me. “
“I’m allowed to use my phone.”
“Yes, yes you are. But you shouldn’t make disparaging comment about me, your fare, while I’m in the cab and can hear you.”
“No, I don’t lie. Listen, you have been rude and disrespectful. Just run my credit card for $25. Can you open the trunk, so I can get my suitcase? “
“As he’s running my credit card he pops the trunk and mutters, “You lie.”
“You have been incredibly rude. I asked you before I got in if you took credit cards. You said yes. You have a sticker on your window that says you take credit cards … “
“No cab driver takes credit cards.”
“Umm, I beg to differ. I travel all over the world, ride in cabs all the time and pay with credit cards all the time.”
“They take them, but they don’t like to … “ He hands me the credit card slip. I sign it. Jump out of the cab. Open the trunk. And I pull my suitcase out. At the same time, my cabbie jumps out of the car.
As I’m walking into the hotel he starts yelling at me.
“You’re a liar.”
… And that is how my stay in Nashville got started.
March 7, 2011
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