A cab driver in NYC attempted to rip us off as we made our way to dinner in the East Village last weekend. My street-savvy sister immediately questioned the driver when he took the first wrong turn.
“Sir?? Where are you going? We need to be headed in the other direction.” The cab driver appeared to be confused but then apologized and claimed it was an honest mistake.
“Ma’am I am SO sorry… my fault. You can subtract a dollar from the fare at the end of the trip.” My sister gave him the benefit of the doubt and curtly said “Ok.”
The driver proceeded in the supposed right direction but I could tell something was wrong because my sister began fidgeting in her seat and kept glancing at the street signs and heavy congestion we had run into. She started looking up contact information on our passen
ger monitor (most NY cabs have these really cool touch screens in the rear with all sorts of information about the city) and wrote down the driver’s name and vehicle information. As we continued to sit in traffic and watched the meter fare rise, I could feel the ensuing storm brewing and gaining momentum with each second. I pulled out my wallet to get cash since I offered to pay for the cab in the first place but my sister quietly said “You can pay me back. I’ll tell you why later.” I laughed on the inside because I knew what was coming. Mr. Cab Driver made a fatal mistake: he tried to play a Celmer Girl.
When we approached a good exit spot, my sister’s voice cut the tense air like a steel blade: “STOP THE FUCKING CAR AND LET US OUT RIGHT HERE! You purposely took us in the wrong direction and went all over creation when you could have taken ______ Street (forgot the name… what do I know, I’m just a tourist). HERE'S $7.00 CUZ THAT'S ALL YOU FUCKIN' DESERVE!!!” She threw the money into his hand and angrily opened the car door. She went to exit the cab but then leaned back over the seat and yelled, “WHAT!! DO YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE WE'RE WOMEN, WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OR THAT WE DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE DOING??!!!" As I fought back laughter, I hurriedly followed my sister out of the cab, almost closing the door on poor Insana, who was just as stunned but also just as ready to get the hell out of that cab before World War III broke out.
Interestingly enough, during my sister’s rant, the cab driver said nothing; he never yelled back, never tried to defend himself, and didn’t chase after us for the fare difference, which was around $5-6.00. I think he knew he was being dishonest and picked the wrong people to swindle. Had it just been Sana and me, we would have forked over the inflated fare without thinking twice. I’m sure my sister has already filed a complaint to the city about the cab driver. It was such a NY moment and I am still laughing about it three days later.
