taxicab aggressions

instead of HBO’s
taxicab confessions,
i’m starting a series called
“taxicab aggressions”.

only here in amman,
since we have no personal wheels of our own,
have i had the opportunity to meet so many taxi drivers.
many of them seem to be palestinian
and have relatives or spent some time in chicago,
but i digress.

here’s my most recent inspiration for “taxicab aggressions”:
coming from my dentist appointment
with my face half numb
trying to purposefully remember to keep my lips closed
and therefore spit inside my mouth where it belongs,
i get in a cab with an older man
thinking i’m gonna have a uneventful ride back home.

we come to a roundabout
and he keeps coming to jerky stops
as drivers try to make their way through the circle.
not to mention he’s driving a stick
and the roundabout sits at the top of a hill.
he starts muttering in a gritty, ancient voice.

then we came to an intersection with two lanes.
on the left is a left turn signal. it’s red.
the light on the right is a regular light. it’s green.
there are two cars in front of us,
but they want to turn left.
due to arabs inability to see the white lane division lines
the cars in front of us are blocking the rest of the traffic from proceeding forward.
the cacophony of horns begin.
cars here are more often than not
tricked out with custom horns,
so it’s a colorful experience.

with thikr beads in hand,
he flings opens the door,
leans out until his momentum puts him up on his feet
and proceeds to waddle
arms cocked out to the side
to speed up his progress.
as soon as he starts to give the driver a piece of his mind
– in agreement with the horns of the many drivers behind us –
the left-turn signal turns green
and the drivers in front speed off
firing back a few words of their own.

the horns stop,
as if to signal their approval of his actions,
and he waddles back to his taxi.
but as soon as he literally falls back in his seat
the horns start again, “go, old man!”
he takes off the brake,
slams the stick into first
and revs off
letting the taxi’s acceleration close the door.

he must have still had that incident on his mind
cause he stopped at the beginning of an exit ramp
to exchanged words with another driver
who had long passed by.

when we reached another circle
he multi-tasks between making a phone call
and verbally sparring with yet another driver.

maybe that’s how he makes it through the day without smoking,
like so many other drivers.

it wasn’t that bad a ride,
it was just comically ironic:
how you gonna be old
– you better get right with Allah,
cause you may not have many more days to go –
AND foul
during the month when Allah is especially forgiving and merciful?

so there is one of many stories i or others here in amman
– or new york or cairo or wherever –
could share about crazy taxi drivers.

i’ve heard ones about male drivers “pleasing themselves”
with women in the car.

i had a taxi driver who
had the presence of mind
to turn off the meter
and THEN reverse
and go after a man
who called him an obscenity.

i’ve heard of one asking for a tip
because he was an orphan
– this is a grown man, mind you.

i’ve heard of one pointing at a female pedestrian
then pumping his arms
in a obscene grinding motion,
like his passenger would want to share that personal moment with him.

share your own “taxicab aggression”.
i’d love to laugh with you.