A cabbie named Salvador
Given that I owed Big Brother $24.25 on Christmas, and I didn't manage to get the money to Him beforehand, I woke this morning at 7:30 to head over to the county seat of luscious Cobb County and pay those assholes their much deserved money. I was out the door by 7:55, and walked in the blistering cold from my place, through the barrio, over 285, past not-quite-buckhead, only to see my bus shooting past the stop I was supposed to be at. Shit.
Fortuitously, a cab (Guerrero Taxi, a subsidiary of Fulton Cab, Inc.) was about to pass me. I dodged a Land Rover, hailed it, and started gibbering on about how I needed to catch that bus! That bus! That one right there! Go!!!
The driver calmly turned around and said "I do not speak much English." My response was, of course, "Hablo espanol... un poco." "Un poquito." "Right... I need to catch that bus." "Que?"
Having $8 to my person, I knew that I either caught the bus in less than $5 of fare, or I was right fucked and had to take the cab all the way to my destination. After a few derechas and an izquierda or two, the meter was cruising skyward and I knew it was all over. So I relaxed and had a lovely chat in Spanglish. It turns out that neither of us knew enough of the others' language to actually get any conversing done, so we taught each other basic cab-lingo. A little later, we passed the bus. I pointed it out to Salvador, and he looked a bit confused.
I'd like to smack that caballero that thought it was a good idea to make "right" be "derecha" and "straight" be "derecho."
After $32 and change, we got to Marietta Square. I had Salvador park in a bank parking lot, and I told him I'd be back in diez minutos. "Que?" "Diez. Necesito diez minutos, senor. I will be back, I will pay you. Pero no tengo enough dinero ahora. Diez minutos." Seeing the doubt in his eyes (and rightfully so, who was this saucy gringo trying to scam him into driving 20 miles away from his normal location?) I said "I will leave this with you, it is worth much more than $20." And showed him my tiny shiny so-so-finy little camera. With that, I was off to sprint around the square, stopping at an ATM and grabbing quite a hefty wad. Proceeded to PO, made the drop off, and ran back to the cab.
I then gave him $40, he gave me $15 change and said no more. I remained motionless in the back... he turned around, and gave me a calendar. It's quite lovely, really. I then said "Senor! Vamos al Glenridge!" He said "Aaaah, si si. Vamos."
An uneventful and blissfully trafficfree cruise down 75 and 285 (not trying to catch a bus on Johnson Ferry and Roswell, thank god) and a wad of cash later (note that he charged me $10 less than the meter said after the first leg... so I tipped him guapoly) and here I am at work. And to think... that journey was only 3000% more expensive than it would have been if I'd left my apartment 45 seconds earlier.
Fortuitously, a cab (Guerrero Taxi, a subsidiary of Fulton Cab, Inc.) was about to pass me. I dodged a Land Rover, hailed it, and started gibbering on about how I needed to catch that bus! That bus! That one right there! Go!!!
The driver calmly turned around and said "I do not speak much English." My response was, of course, "Hablo espanol... un poco." "Un poquito." "Right... I need to catch that bus." "Que?"
Having $8 to my person, I knew that I either caught the bus in less than $5 of fare, or I was right fucked and had to take the cab all the way to my destination. After a few derechas and an izquierda or two, the meter was cruising skyward and I knew it was all over. So I relaxed and had a lovely chat in Spanglish. It turns out that neither of us knew enough of the others' language to actually get any conversing done, so we taught each other basic cab-lingo. A little later, we passed the bus. I pointed it out to Salvador, and he looked a bit confused.
I'd like to smack that caballero that thought it was a good idea to make "right" be "derecha" and "straight" be "derecho."
After $32 and change, we got to Marietta Square. I had Salvador park in a bank parking lot, and I told him I'd be back in diez minutos. "Que?" "Diez. Necesito diez minutos, senor. I will be back, I will pay you. Pero no tengo enough dinero ahora. Diez minutos." Seeing the doubt in his eyes (and rightfully so, who was this saucy gringo trying to scam him into driving 20 miles away from his normal location?) I said "I will leave this with you, it is worth much more than $20." And showed him my tiny shiny so-so-finy little camera. With that, I was off to sprint around the square, stopping at an ATM and grabbing quite a hefty wad. Proceeded to PO, made the drop off, and ran back to the cab.
I then gave him $40, he gave me $15 change and said no more. I remained motionless in the back... he turned around, and gave me a calendar. It's quite lovely, really. I then said "Senor! Vamos al Glenridge!" He said "Aaaah, si si. Vamos."
An uneventful and blissfully trafficfree cruise down 75 and 285 (not trying to catch a bus on Johnson Ferry and Roswell, thank god) and a wad of cash later (note that he charged me $10 less than the meter said after the first leg... so I tipped him guapoly) and here I am at work. And to think... that journey was only 3000% more expensive than it would have been if I'd left my apartment 45 seconds earlier.