Dear Taxi Drivers,
Recently, I have come to notice that taxis are a pretty important part of my life. You have dropped me home on many a late night. You have brought me to the airport and kindly handed me my luggage as I skipped off to prettier places. You have even sped to work with me after I slept in and missed my morning bus. It’s fair to say that without you guys, my life would be in a far sorrier state- holiday-less, jobless and stumbling home from a night out on the South Link Road. Yet for all the good you have done for me and the general student population, we do not make your lives easy. After a brief period of self-examination, it seems I have a few apologies to make on behalf of myself and most students.
First and foremost, I’m sorry for asking the same question every time I get in your car. Neither of us really care about the answer you give and while it’s nice to make conversation, I could really try to be more original than the classic “Ye busy tonight?” You always answer as if it’s the first time you’ve been asked that question and I appreciate that.
Not only am I unoriginal, but I’m also extremely rude as I treat your lovely car as a portable karaoke booth. As my friends and I bust out the lyrics to a song which we have made unrecognisable from the one actually playing on the radio, you curse yourself for having forgotten your earplugs. If the Portuguese taxi driver who endured my dad’s aggressive attempts at air guitar is reading this, I would like you to know that I don’t blame you for turning off the radio mid song. No one should have to witness the sweat pouring off a forty five year old man’s forehead as he plays Sultans of Swing in a sangria-induced delusion.
As I render you deaf belting out the latest Beyoncé song, I devour whatever I managed to scavenge from Hillbilly’s or McDonalds. While stinking up your car with the whiff of fast food and spitting out chunks of my twisty fries as I scream ‘You shoulda put a ring on it’, I don’t even show the courtesy of offering you some of my food. Of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t accept food from the crazy girl you’re dropping home, but it’s inconsiderate of me not to think of the fact that you might not have had dinner yet yourself.
To add to your misfortune, it seems that I don’t even have to enter your lovely vehicle to irritate you. Whether or not there is another customer in your car, I will attempt to flag you down. And by flag down I mean dance around in the middle of the road until you are forced to stop at my drunken command. I’m sorry that I find it entertaining to dart across the road in front of you because I’m sure you find the human obstacle course I made for you very scary as you drive through the city at two in the morning.
Finally, I would like to apologise for never remembering the way to my own house- or at least, never remembering to tell you the way to my house. All you have to rely on is the odd mumble and nod, and you must pick up on my adorable quirk of saying right turn when I in fact meant left. As I leave you traumatised from our journey together, I do take the courtesy to thank you but really an apology would be more appropriate after all that (hence this letter).
I guess the thing that I am the most sorry about is that I will definitely annoy you again. I can make all the promises in the world right now, but the next time you pick me up after a night out, I am guaranteed to do the same thing. Perhaps I will be better in years to come, but in the meantime, feel free to keep overcharging me like you have been doing up till now.