Cab Fare

Here's a difference I noticed tonight between taxi cabs in New York and Florence. Well, really, here's a couple: One would be that they are obtained in different ways. To hail a taxi in New York you do exactly that - hail it. In Florence it's much different. You either call the cab number and begin paying from the moment you call, or you scavenge for a spot where taxis are rumored to congregate and hope that one of them will give you a ride. It's almost like they don't want your business (I'll soon explain that this is far from true). Regardless of your method, it sucks. The second difference is that where taxi drivers in New York have your back (I presume), the ones in Florence do not. This evening, Sam and I were waiting for a taxi when a wet dog, which turned out to be a wet man, which turned out to be a wet bum, arrived also looking for a cab. The cab driver, instead of having our back, had his wallet's back and decided to take both parties (us and the man) to their destination. While there was of course the possibility that this guy could be an awesome sorcerer or Zach Galifianakis, he was not, and spent the entire ride yelling and scratching Sam's arm. In the end we made it home and killed some left over pasta. The end justified the means.

In honor of tonight's subject matter, here is one of the greatest hip hop songs of all time, also, regarding taxi cabs.