Given that a taxi service primarily deals with getting people from point A to Point B, our taxi driver didn't know where Rodeo Drive was. And we were in Beverly Hills. Ok, he only spoke a broken form of Spanglish, and sure...we should have known better when we were hailing him while he almost caused a collision, but surely he knew where the most iconic shopping precinct in Beverley hills should be. Heck...we were already in Beverly Hills, we just needed to go to a few kilometers across town. The conversation below took place
Driver: Where you wanna go?
Us: Rodeo Drive please
Driver: Err...yep...uuuuuh
Us: Rodeo Drive
Driver: (Jibberish)
Us: Excuse me?
Driver: Err...sssssssssss...Where?
Us: Where is Rodeo Drive?
Driver: ya
Us: It's in Beverley Hills
Driver: ya yay a...but errrr...where? Do you have a street name?
Us: Yes...Rodeo Drive
Driver: uuuuh, street number?
Us: You know the iconic Beverley hills street where all the celebrities go shopping? That street. The one called Rodeo Drive. We don't know a street number
OK, so there is no misunderstanding, it was at this point, I knew we were screwed.
Cab: Mutual silence for 5 minutes.
Driver: uhhhh, ya..... do you have map ya?
AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGG
We thrust a map in his face and pointed at Rodeo drive...
Driver: (Laugh) Ok, I see
Ten minutes later........
Us: OK, we see the street sign now can you stop here?
Driver: Where?
Us: Here....The side of the road.
Driver: Here?
Us: Yes. here will do.
Driver: (Silence).
Three blocks later he eventually decided he would pull over.
It is people like this that I wonder how they don't forget to breath.
