So, in Paris, the metro closes around 1 on weeknights and around 1:40 on weekends. It does not open again until 5:30 am. This is annoying. There is a night bus available but bus routes are so complicated even in the day time that I can never figure them out, let alone the night bus that only runs every 45 minutes or so.
Sometimes it happens that you miss the last metro, walking by yourself is just not an option and you are forced to take a taxi. Usually it is avoidable but once every 2 weeks or so, I find myself hailing a cab. A good driver gets me to my street from the center of Paris for 11 euro, I tip them a few euro and am on my way; no harm, no foul. Sometimes they take a little longer or there is a little more traffic and the cab ride is about 13, it all just depends.
This one particular evening, it's late and raining and I find myself having missed the metro. So I walk to a conveniently placed taxi stand just next to the metro and there is a line of taxi's waiting. I walk up to the first taxi and approach the drivers window. (In Paris, taxi drivers usually like you to tell them where you are going before you get into their cab so they can refuse you flat out if it's too far or they just don't want to drive you. Once I was lost, hailed a cab and was refused based on the fact that the restaurant I was trying to go was just on the opposite street corner. Hello directional impairment)
I stand patiently by the window where the man takes no notice of me. He has his fedora almost covering his eyes, which I believe are closed. I awkwardly stand by the window and pace hoping he will sense the movement and wake up. No such luck. I have to knock on his window to wake him up. (In Paris you do NOT cut the taxi line or skip a taxi. You are obligated to take the first in line. He has apparently earned your money and personal preference has no say in the matter. I would have just as soon let him sleep.)
I knock on his window and he jolts awake and motions me to get inside. I open the door and give him my address and add that it is near parc monceau, a very well known park that is legitimately 100 yards from my door.
He assures me he knows exactly where he is going. I trust him because he is a cab driver.
We start driving and after 5-10 minutes I realize something is not right. The meter is already at 10 euro (he was even charging me the inner city rate...which sometimes cab drivers try to fudge if they think you're a tourist with no clue what you're doing) and we are nowhere near my apartment. I ask him if he is sure he knows where we're going. He says yes and that we are almost there.
I am silent for only about 1.50 more euro and then I tell him that it does not normally take this long. He sighs and pulls over. Finally he hands me a map of Paris and opens it to a page with a list of all of the streets in the city and their coordinating cross streets and start and stop streets. He tells me to find my street and read the list to him.
I find my street and do as I'm told. He then asks me to find one of the cross streets on the list and read the corresponding streets for that road. I do this and he tells me he knows we're we are going and we drive on again.
After a minute or two, I know he has no clue where we are going and this cab ride is turning into one of the most expensive of my life. I still have the map so I find the street map of my arrondissement and I point to my street. This one! Here! Next to the huge green spot in the middle of the paper!!
I'm getting visibly frustrated until I see a sign pointing in the direction behind us that says "parc monceau" and
I point this out to him. Right there, sir. That sign clearly says park monceau. He says, what sign? I gesture, I describe, I yell a little bit, and he still doesn't know what I'm talking out. I'm on the verge of getting out of the taxi cab and physically shaking the sign in his face when it hits me.
This man cannot read. That is why he handed me the map when we pulled over and why he asked me to read it. That is why he has no idea what 'sign' I'm talking about. I look at the meter and it's hitting 22 euro. I am so frustrated because either this man can't read or he is swindling me out of money because he can tell I'm foreign.
I start sobbing. I only have 30 euro on me. I cannot afford this cab ride. I don't know how to tell him to take me home, and I'm exhausted. I'm crying in his back seat like a high school girl who didn't make the cheer-leading team. He is staring at me like I'm a mutant.
Sure, I'm in a cab with a driver who can't read, sobbing and I'm the weird one. He asks what's wrong and I tell him that I can't afford the cab, I'm tired, and I really need to go home and just to twist the knife a little, I tell him that I'm super homesick and I miss my friends and family. He apologizes profusely and turns the meter off.
In about 10 minutes we find my apartment, during which time he tells me how homesick he is for his home country of "jibberish I couldn't understand" and I get out. While I should have refused to pay at all for a cab ride that normally costs me 15 euro including tip, I am so tired and now I feel bad because this guy is homesick too, so I gave him a 20 euro and got out of the cab.
On another note, I absolutely plan on getting a bike pass so that I never have to deal with cabs again.
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