In response to BT's Top Five things we know about Zalman the cabdriver, I present: Top Five Garthmeister J Cabdriver experiences:
1. (Sydney, Australia) The Polish cab driver from Warsaw who refused to believe that I have a Canadian friend who is line to be a Count (which is actually true).
2. (Sydney, Australia) The Indian cab driver who picked me up from outside a pub at 3 in the morning while I was unbelievably inebriated. When I began singing to the bad 80s tunes on the radio he not only a) turned up the music to '11' but b) encouraged me to sing at the top of my lungs.
3. (Perth, Australia) After leaving my first rave at a club in the city, at which I had been "chemically enhanced", I was picked up by an ancient German cab driver, who was listening to opera. Extremely surreal. After asking what I did to pass the time (at the time the answer was: doing an Honours degree), he said it was important to kick back from time to time.
4. (Dallas, Texas) A huge and jovial American cab driver who entered into a spirited debate about how much the Dallas Cowboys were going to suck this year. When I pointed out that I was a San Francisco 49'ers supporter he told me to "Get the hell out of my cab". Fortunately for me, he apeared to be joking.
5. (U.S.A) Every single cab driver who jumped when I automatically jumped into the front passenger seat (ie. riding shotgun) when they stopped to pick me up. I am used to doing this at home, and is a hard habit to break. Despite the fact that almost every time there was crap all over the seat, every single driver assured me it was fine, and shovelled the detritus off to let me sit. Whether or not this is purely due to my Australian accent, I'm not sure.
Of course, I have now probably gone and written a larger post than the one I'm commenting on. "Get your own blog, parasite!" I hear you cry.
Do't worry: in about 0.2 seconds I will be given the proverbial too much work to do in too short a time. So you should be safe from my ramblings. Maybe.
Cheers,
Garthmeister J
To me, sitting in the front of the cab with the driver has been something to get used to (here in Australia). It's not like I'm friends with the guy or that I really want to speak with him (unless I or he are feeling particularly chatty). But sitting in the front seat makes it a real expectation.
Cultural differences, small though they may be, can catch you unawares and do weird things to your brain.
On another note, are there so many Australians here (Garthmeister J., Shauny, etc.) because of the name of the file? Or through some other odd coincidence?
Posted by: Art on March 20, 2002 10:33 PMIt's all Rory's fault.
Posted by: BT on March 20, 2002 11:25 PMActually, I came across this site as a result of some oblique reference Shauny made in "her current obsessions" - a link to your "Little Things About the Workforce We Had Forgotten". I liked that so I stayed.
So, it's all her fault. ;)
Cheers,
Garthmeister J
Yes, but Shauny noticed the File (I am 99% sure) because she reads my blog and I linked to it many moons ago, so it's all my fault... (hey, let's play six degrees of Bill Tipper!). And I noticed it because of, yes, the name, zooming past in Blogger's 'recently updated' list one sunny day. Came expecting Aussier-than-thou-ness, stayed for the urbane East Coast American wit.
Posted by: Rory on March 21, 2002 05:26 AM