What cab drivers need to know to get along

As soon as you get in a cab, you are faced with the problem of proper verbal communication. In the cab driver's line of work, he spends his days in the city, moving with the flow of traffic and inevitably clashing with other drivers (an activity that usually leads to heart attacks and uncontrollable curses). He is chronically nervous and hates all human-like creatures. This attitude has led all those involved in the hipster radical movement to bite the bullet and say that all cab drivers have Farsi tendencies. Wrong! The cab driver is not interested in ideological issues at all: he hates union demonstrations, not because of their political orientation, but because of the traffic jams they cause, and he hates the parade of the "leader's daughters" (meaning a fascist group) as much as he hates them, wishing only for a strong government that could send all private car owners He hates the "Daughters of the Leader" (a fascist group) parade as much as he hates it and wishes for a strong government that would send all private car owners to the gallows and imposes a reasonably strict curfew - from 6 a.m. to midnight, for example. He hates women as much as he does, but only those who wander the streets, and would be forgiven if they all stayed home and cooked pasta.

In Italy, cab drivers are usually divided into three main categories: those who talk the whole time, those who declare their cynical stance through silent driving, and those who constantly describe this or that passenger they encounter to de-stress themselves through pure narrative. The cab driver said that if it was put in a bar for people to talk about, the bartender would have offered to send you home, and let you wash up. But for the cab driver, that is the world's most wonderful funny amazing fascinating sensational story, so if you are smart enough, it is necessary to insert a fuss comment to match, in turn, exclaimed: "This world is crazy! There are so many inexplicable guys out there! They have the nerve to say such things." This kind of participation does not shake Mr. Taxi Driver's strange autistic tendencies, but it helps to improve your self-esteem.

Italians are more adventurous in New York, and if they see surnames such as Degustanedo, Esposito, Bacuoco, etc. on a cab driver's license and reveal their nationality on the spur of the moment, they will find that the driver, without exception, speaks a non-existent tribal language, and if the passenger does not understand it, they feel humiliated.

At this point, you must say (remember to use English) that you only understand the dialect of your home country. By saying so, he will believe that Italy is now an English-speaking country. New York cab drivers either have a Jewish name or a non-Jewish name; the former are Zionists, while the latter are anti-Semites. But pro-Semitic or anti-Semitic, they don't bother to argue their political positions, but instead slash revolutionary declarations at you. In front of people with Middle Eastern or Russian accents, it is very difficult to make a stand because you can't tell if they are Jewish or not. To avoid accidental bloodshed, you'd better say you changed your mind and don't want to go to 4th Street on 7th Avenue, you want to go to Charlton Street, so the driver will be furious, brake hard, and tell you to get out of the car because New York cab drivers always know only the number and not the name. Because New York taxi drivers always know the number but not the name.

Parisian cab drivers, on the other hand, don't know any streets, and if you're going to St. Xulpice Square, they'll drop you off at the concert hall and claim it's the closest they can get to your destination. But first, they will grumble half-heartedly at your presumptuous suggestion, saying sadly, "Ah ...... good ...... sir ...... but ......" If you dare to ask him to refer to the guidebook, he will either play dumb without saying a word or he will say that if you need to learn how to look up information, then I can drive you to the University of Paris. Not so with the Asian drivers, who will tell you very politely that you don't have to worry about them dropping you off right away. Then first they take you on three big loops around the main street and then ask what the difference is if they don't take you to Gare du Nord, but only to Gare de l'Est - there are quite a lot of trains at both stations anyway.

As far as I know, it's impossible to book a cab by phone to pick someone up from a nightclub in New York; it works in Paris, but the car that's booked never comes. In Stockholm it's the opposite, you can only call a cab by phone because they will never trust an old foreigner walking around on the street, the problem is getting the number to call a cab; you have to stop a cab on the street and as I said earlier, the driver won't trust an old foreigner walking around on the street... ...

German drivers are known for their politeness and the precision of their actions. They don't talk all the way, just step on the gas, and by the time you get out of the car you're as scared as a sheet, at which point you'll understand why they claim to be coming to Italy to relax on vacation while driving 60 km/h in the fast lane right in front of you.

If you ask a Frankfurt driver in a Porsche to race a Rio driver in a broken VW, the latter will win without a doubt, because he never pays attention to the traffic lights and just drives straight down the road. And when he stops, there will be another broken-down Volkswagen stopping next to him full of happy boys waiting to grab the passenger's watch.

And the surefire way to identify a cab driver in any part of the world is that he is the one who can never find change.