Cab driver, fuck you!*
I’ve been stiffed a total of $3.90 by three different cab drivers in the last seven days.
A week ago I booked a cab from Erskineville to Central. When it eventually arrived it stopped half a block away from me, so I hobbled toward it with my three big big pieces of luggage. Then I realised it wasn’t the cab I ordered, it was another taxi stopping there by chance to drop someone off. I took it anyway because I was in a hurry and it was the “first available.” As I was getting in I got a text message saying my cab was “approaching” and indeed another cab drove past.
When we got to Central, the prick charged me the $2.60 radio booking fee, even though he wasn’t the cab I’d called. I noticed, but I didn’t say anything.
Coming back from Newcastle I took a cab from Central to Erskineville. I paid by card and watched the driver enter a 30c tip to the total without my prompting. I saw, but I let it go, because hey, it’s thirty cents.
Just then coming back to my hotel I handed over S$50 for a S$6.30 fare and got $42 in notes and 70c in coin as change. I knew it was wrong as I was getting out but again for some reason I let it pass.
All up it’s the price of a cup of coffee, so I don’t really care. I just can’t work out why it’s happened three times in a week and why I don’t really care—I’m usually all about the principle of these kind of things, especially if I’m being wronged by an idiot in a minor way. Am I getting soft? I’ve had a donkey-driver beaten by Egyptian Tourist Police for less, fer chrissake! Did letting the first incident slide cause me to start giving off “sucker pheromones”, to which other cab drivers are hyper-sensitive?
Must be getting old.
(* It’s a reference to a skit on De La Soul Is Dead—but damned if I can find a link on iTunes or YouTube or anywhere…)
