Panama Taxi Nightmares |
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| Written by Andrea Maizel |
| Wednesday, 03 September 2008 01:00 |
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I still remember my very first taxi cab ride. I remember telling myself, "This is it, your first ride in a real New York City cab," as if it was some sort of prize that I had just won. It conjured up images from the movies where people, much cooler than myself, whistled loudly and three cabs came to their rescue. Very classy. But as soon I stepped into that coffin on wheels all those glamorous images went flying out the window.
We proceeded to whip around other cars at a speed only my crazy Grandma Tica could keep up with, and eventually ended up in some questionable neighborhoods. Overall, it was an intense experience to say the least. And by intense I mean scary and death defying. Luckily, I don't frequent New York City that often. It was this first hellish experience in New York City that eventually gave way to my disenchantment with cabs in general. Now here I am in Panama surrounded by my nemesis, the taxicab. We've all been there, on the corner waving down cabs in the pouring rain only to have them slowly drive by with that little nod saying, nope not this time sucker I'm not stopping in this rain. Or my favorite where they just pretend they didn't hear you and drive by. Apparently you have to be going in a direction that is convenient for them. I foolishly believed that since I was paying it would be up to me to decide where to go. I feel like a deserted hitchhiker waiting for the kindness of a stranger to pick me up. Some of my most memorable taxi moments come just as it is time to pay. After getting ripped off multiple times I have started to gather a very basic understanding of prices around the city so naturally I have tried to keep the ripping off to a minimum. However, taxi drivers are trying to drive me to an early grave with phrases like, "Well how much do you want to pay?"...Well geez mister, if it was up to me this ride would be free. Don't be fooled by this phrase the nice man is not trying to offer you a discount. At this point, no matter what response I give, it is met by one of two comebacks, "Weeellll, It's Sunday how about this much" or even better "Hmmmm, I was thinking more like this much." Ok sir, how about you just tell me how much and we'll stop this little diatribe at the end of every taxi ride?! In general my sarcastic comments are more for self amusement so I chuckle on the inside and fumble in my bag for more change. My most recent debacle has been trying to get a cab from Obarrio to Casco Viejo. I start my search with the knowledge that I will get a few quick drive bys after shouting out "casco viejo" and getting the typical "hells no!" response. Which isn't so much of a verbal response (but that would hilarious especially if it was in English), except in my mind, as it is the all powerful finger shake back and forth that still leaves me on the corner. After twenty minutes of abuse from cabbies I eventually make my way to Casco all the while envisioning the glamorous movie stars who never have to put up with everyday hassles of us commoners. I can't give up on the taxis as they are my only source of transportation but I aspire to one day whistle loudly and have them all rush to my aid, preferably with my hair blowing in the wind movie star-style.
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Comments (1)
  written by Rita , November 26, 2008 This made me laugh out loud because it is so true. I just moved to Panama a few weeks ago and I can definitely relate to what you said about feeling like a deserted hitchhiker. My personal favorite is when the taxistas honk and whistle at you...right as they drive on by with absolutely no passengers in their cab.
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| Last Updated on Wednesday, 03 September 2008 21:07 |
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