I’ve ridden in many taxis, but I’ve never been a passenger in one that was about to run out of gas. As we bounced towards the airport, reggae music rocking the car, our cab driver suddenly wheeled into the exit ramp of a gas station so packed with cars that they were hanging out into the street. Without a second thought, he blocked two lanes of departing cars and jumped out of the vehicle to pump a small amount of fuel. Once the transaction was complete, he slid into the seat (we’re not sure he paid), backed up, and rolled on out into the traffic, proudly announcing, “and that’s the way it’s done.”
All H could say was, “I’m impressed.”
(Stunned, I didn’t think to take any pictures at the gas station, so instead, I’ve shown you the airport terminal that we reached in record time.)
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