May 26, 2004
Taxicab Confessions
Over the last few weeks, I have had the unique experience of riding in more than my share of taxis around the northeastern United States. Each one of these has proven to be a very interesting and enlightening moment. If I had the foresight to know that I was going to be posting about this, I might have taken photographs of the back seats to go along with this post.
Based on the data that I have collected, taxi cab drivers come in three flavors.
1) Non-English Speaking Man - This person is either an immigrant, or a US Citizen for whom English is not their first language. Generally this person is (or claims to be) a former executive for either a US based (Disney, CBS) or European organization who was laid off and is now working their way back up. I don't know why one would start their climb back up as a cab driver, but who am I to judge.
2) Anorexic White Guy - This driver is usually a recovering alcoholic or someone who isn't so lucky. I'm not making an assumption about that fact; these guys are usually really open about their personal lives and come right out with it. Either way, they are probably very passionate about one thing and feel the need to educate me on our trip together. Recent lessons have included vegetarianism, corporate marketing, foreign policy and child raising.
3) Huge White Guy - This guy is the best one to get. He is usually the friendliest driver and has lots of interesting little anecdotes to chat about. Expect this person to tell you that he is on some kind of diet (he is not) and complain to you about his crazy girlfriend (who will call him twice during your ride). He will be uncertain about his political beliefs which are ok because then he isn't going to corner you about your own ideas.
Regardless of which one of these drivers you end up getting, I am continuously impressed with how easily I cave to their beliefs when in the car with them. I suddenly become a right wing conservative card carrying NRA member when trapped in a car with a crazy cabbie driving 65 MPH down Route 95.
Back to the lab again, uh oh.