Wow. So I’m safely back in my place, sprawled out on my own bed with my laptop, feeling relieved to have made it back. Yes, it was cool to get away for a while, but man…I really had a need to be around some familiar stuff. I do plan on writing more about the trip in the days to come, but for now I want to share a bit about my taxi experiences. I’ve taken four cabs, to and from each airport. Nothing revolutionary there, right? I don’t think I would have written about it except that on this fourth ride I was struck by how each ride was plainly unique; each was a different experience.

To Pearson

Prior to leaving, our receptionist was great enough to give me two taxi chits to get two and from PIA. I used my first one on this trip. The cab came promptly and shuttled me over pretty efficiently. The driver was polite and talkative. I say it was easy to like the guy. He was also very knowledgeable about the area. He knew about construction going on and extrapolated that thought to know that trucks would be taking my road to avoid the construction. On my road, the way to the highway going westbound is a single left turn lane and neither of us wanted to get stuck behind a long line of trucks. So, he decided to tackle the construction zone head on, which was entirely the correct decision because everyone was avoiding the area entirely. This guy was good at what he was doing.

When we arrived at Terminal 1, I gave him my taxi chit and he proceeded to fill things out. He totalled things up for me which wasn’t expected. He did a good job, so I was going to add a bit of a tip, but he left it as is. What a guy! So, seriously, this guy represents how I want a city cab to be: knowledgeable, polite, affable, and not greedy. Well done, sir.

From O’Hare

So, coming from Chicago I was expecting someone from the client to pick me up from the airport after she promised to do so. However, due to a bit of craziness she was suddenly unable to do so. She ended up suggesting I take a cab, so I did. When I got in one and told the driver where I wanted to go he told me that the cost would be 1.5x the normal rate. I shrugged and just told him to go for it. Overall the guy was friendly, but perhaps ever so slightly off. When he got on the interstate, he didn’t seem so sure . At one point he had to change routes and hesitated as he got on an offramp. He eventually stopped and realized that he got off the wrong exit. He decided that instead of coming back around it would be prudent for him to drive backwards back onto the interstate. Holy freakin’ Jesus!!! When he got back on, I basically told him: “As long as you get me there safely, that’s all I care about.” He laughed and agreed. From that point forward, we was really flooring it. I figure he averaging 80 mph for the rest of the way.

Every time he crossed a toll he had to go digging into pockets for change. For a guy that drives in an around Chicagoland I was surprised that he didn’t have more change ready, or perhaps a transponder. I guess his focus is more within the city proper. Well, when we got to the hotel, he took the rate, added the tolls, multiplied by 1.5 and then added a few extra bucks more for kicks. He did get me there fast, and I wasn’t in any mood to argue, so I thought screw it. What’s a few more dollars, I guess? That was that.

To O’Hare

When I was at the hotel I noticed that the hotel provided a shuttling service to the airport for about $25. Holy, if I only knew about that service before I would have saved $42. Damn. Well, the day before I left I booked a ride on a shuttle. After work today, I picked up my bags and waiting in the front lobby of the hotel. I was expecting a bus to pick me up, however, right on schedule a uniformed driver came to the front driving a Lincoln Town Car. Whaaaaaaaat?! Well he got out and opened the trunk. Usually, I’m not used to anyone doing things for me so I proceeded to insist that I could put my carry-on in the trunk. It wasn’t until after that I realized that it was part of the guy’s job and that I should have let him do it. The driver was friendly and knowledgeable about the history of the town I was in. He was also on top of construction going on around the area. Well done. The car itself was ridiculously roomy. So much leg room! I never would have imagined that I’d end up riding in a Town Car. Crazy, yo. I think I found myself ensuring that I spoke articulately without fucking my vowels or dropping consonants. I normally do that, but for other cabbies I’ve informalized things just for the sake of connection.

When we arrived I proceeded to allow him to get my bag out. At this rate, that’s probably the first and last time I’ll have a chauffeur and ride in such a vehicle. Heh.

From Pearson

I knew that taxis from Pearson are regulated by the GTAA and only approved taxis can pick up from the airport. Some business guy on the plane was ranting about that and said that sometimes he got undercover taxi drivers. He said he’d make eye contact with a cab and then run before either of them could get fined. Crazy stuff. Anyway, after getting through customs I dragged my bag over to the taxi area. I had full intentions of getting one of those limo rides because…why not? Anyway, before I could get outside and queue up someone asked me if I needed a taxi. I said I did. He asked me where I was going. I told him and he quoted a price that matched the tariff price for the airport taxis going to me area. I figured that this guy had an illicit taxi hiding somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where. Well, I agreed to go along with him and he walked hurriedly past the taxi stands, and up the escalators. He eventually walked out to the parking garage. That’s when I asked to see his taxi licence. Yup–he had a Toronto taxi licence. The fact that he was going to the parking lot made me uneasy. He eventually came up to a minivan, which was obviously my ride. I was too tired to care, but getting in I thought “This is how those stories start. I’m going to die.” When he was in the minivan, he pulled out the taxi permit for himself. Whatever. I just decided to let him take me.

Well, the ride was harrowing. The conditions were entirely rainy, and this guy had a habit of straddling lanes on the highway. It was scary, but I just covered my mouth and tried to look relaxed. Through the rain, he would often answer his Blackberry while driving, which is illegal in Ontario these days. I wished he wouldn’t do it because he plainly seemed like a driver prone to getting distracted. My only comfort was knowing that we were in a minivan. If we got into an accident things would have been in our favour. On the highway he got off a stop early and I asked why. He said the route was better. We ended up hitting heavy construction. When we finally made it to my place, I stamped out the idea of giving him my credit card. A man who gets passengers through shady means couldn’t be trusted all that much, can he? I didn’t have enough Canadian money on me so I ended up giving him American cash. I figured that things are relatively close to parity such that it can’t be that bad. I just wanted to get out.