Nigeria, the World Cup, and Why Brewfest Sucked

Yesterday afternoon, we got lost on our way to Brewfest on Governors Island. Or rather, we thought we knew where we were going, and wouldn't you know it, we didn't have a clue.

Go figure.

So once we realized we were 4 hours late and on the wrong side of Manhattan, we ditched our walking shoes and hailed a cab.

Our cabbie, Andrew, who was from Nigeria, clearly owned his cab, as it was decorated in all manners with the Nigerian flag. He had the Nigerian flag on the the head rests, and one hanging from the partition.

Awesomely, he was listening to Alan Jackson, which is the first time I've ever had a cab driver listening to American country music. (For those who don't take cabs or live in NYC, most cabbies listen to talk radio, dance music, or music from the motherland.)

But that's beside the point. The point, these days, is the World Cup. So I asked him if Nigeria would be able to advance. He said sure, but only if they scored 4 goals against South Korea. Then he laughed. And I laughed. Because really -- who scores four goals in one game in the World Cup? (Sure, Germany did last week in it's trouncing of New Zealand, but hey, who's counting).

We laughed a bit more, I wished him luck, and then we hopped on the ferry to Governor's Island, only to realize that we totally missed Brewfest, so we headed to the other side of the island, where a crowd of people were gathering for a free concert headlined by Morning Benders instead.

Vegas taxi drivers = pimps

I learned some interesting facts about Las Vegas taxi drivers when I did a fun radio interview with Nevada's NPR. (Click here to listen.)

The cabbie who shared air space with me revealed the following facts:

1) If cabbies take a guy to a Vegas brothel (legal there), there get a serious kick-back -- as a percent of what the guy spends.

2) Same with strip clubs.

3) They will get you just about anything you ask for -- anything -- if the price is right.

This was all confirmed by loyal reader, Jae. Thanks Jae!

My only disappointment in the interview -- I really wanted the cabbie to talk about the Sin City mobsters - Bugsy Siegel, etc.

UK, Cabbies and WMDs

This just sent in my alert reader Johannah.

Once the British public learned their source on WMDs was an Iraqi taxi driver claiming to have overhead a conversation between two Iraqi army officers, cabbie knowledge (or in some cases, lack thereof) came to the fore.

So who's collect the UK's cabbie stories? The Guardian, that's who.

(At this point, I was going to post a photo of WMDs, but I balked. They're too scary, and I won't be responsible for your nightmares.)

Too Hot to Handle

"Honey, can you get the door? Yeah, just like that ..."

Found on PhotoshopDisasters. A special thanks to Sweden.

Ahmadou from Guinea

I met a fantastic cabbie Friday night – Ahmadou from Guinea. First off, he speaks 8 languages – English, French, Arabic and a number of African languages that I’m too ignorant to have heard of before.

On cell phones:
Me: What do you think about the TLC banning cabbies from using cell phones?
Ahmadou: It can get very dull, driving. And talking on the phone to wives or children can help cabbies stay alert.
Spencer (my friend, also in the cab): I think banning cells is a terrible idea. Why should cabbies – the best drivers in New York – not be allowed to talk on the phone while everyone else still can?
Ahmadou: (nods his head)
Me: Who do you talk to on the phone?
Ahmadou: I talk to my wife. And when she goes to bed, I talk to my friend who is also a cab driver.
Spencer: It’s just stupid. This whole debate is just stupid. Let them use phones!

(Note: As I wrote earlier, I would prefer no drivers use phones, but Ahmadou made a good point.)

Talk radio:
Ahmadou listens to slews of talk radio in his cab. He listens to the BBC, French talk radio, and WNYC’s Brian Lehrer every day. At which point I interjected that I’m slated to be interviewed by Brian Lehrer for Taxi Confidential this Wednesday Oct. 28 (10:45 a.m., people, tune in!). We continued talking about our admiration for Brain Lehrer.

Pieces of Ahmadou’s story:
Ahmadou said people in his country learn many languages because they’re looking for work outside the country. Languages are the key.

His dad wanted him to learn Arabic and study the Koran. So he did. At the time, he did it to please his father. Now, he realizes how lucky he was that his father asked him to study Arabic, because of the world it opened up for him.

His father thought he should further his studies in Saudi Arabia, but Ahmadou wanted to go to England. His father relented. Ahmadou worked for 3 years as an Arabic teacher, but he just couldn’t get into England’s schools. Instead, he got the opportunity to come to the United States.

And he couldn’t be happier that things worked out this way. “It’s like my country,” he said regarding his feelings for the U.S. Here, he could enroll in college before he got his greencard (unlike his friends in England), and he could go out to clubs and live his life without constantly fearing deportation. Here, he met his wife, who is also from Guinea.

And then we reached my apartment, said how much we’d enjoyed he conversation, and said goodbye.

Puking in Cabs may be Verboten! (in Chicago)

Vomiting in a Chicago cab may just get a lot pricier – to the tune of $50.

That’s right – whether you’re drunk, bulimic, or just plain sick, if Chicago’s cabbies have their way, ralphing in their taxis will cost you an extra $50.

I can’t say I blame them. I mean, first, cabbies actually have to clean up your puke. And what if they don’t have plastic gloves and bleach in their trunk? Plus, the time needed to thoroughly clean their cabs is time they’re earning zero dollars. Add to this the fact that the rest of their customers aren’t likely going to enjoy the ode-to-vomit stench in the car, depressing tips.

When I was interviewing people for The Book, I can’t count how many times people laughingly told me their “I was wasted and puked in a cab” story. FYI – not cool. (I once almost heaved in a cab when I had food poisoning, and I tell you, I’ve never seen a cabbie more motivated to get me speedily home.)

Up until now, puking in cabs has been a free privilege. But it looks like in Chicago, you may just have to pay to play. Or puke. Whatever.

(PS aren't you glad I didn't subject you to a pic of real vomit?)

Akmar, the cautious cabbie

The other day I had the most careful, deliberate cabbie. It was raining, and he drove slowly over the Williamsburg Bridge, then cautiously changed lanes to exit the highway.

I complimented him on his safety-consciousness, and we had a nice chat about the dangers of a rain-oil slick on newly wet roads. (A conversation my dad would have been proud of).

Anyway, I asked Akmar about himself. He's been in the U.S. for 12 years, and judging by his accent, he came from the Indian subcontinent. Yes, I know I should have asked specifically where he was from, but I was actually more interested in ...

...the fact that last year he graduated from a 4-year university with a degree in accounting. Now he's working on his masters in accounting and finance. Let's hope his accounting will be cautious like his driving. (That's aimed at you, Wall Street.)

He paid for his schooling by working as a cabbie. "I study now so I will do better in the future," he said.

Wishing you well Akmar!

As I'm not tricked out with an iPhone and am too lazy to carry a camera, I have no photo of Akmar but will instead distract you with this map of the Indian subcontinent.

News: Kidneys, love and punching

Okay, so I'm geographically off topic today, but everyone seemed to love this story (hence the e-mail flurry), so I'm going with it.

The AP reported that in Arizona, a taxi driver offered to donate his kidney to a woman he'd been driving to dialysis for a month. Is it love? Possibly. Coincidentally, the guy's kidney is an actual match. And his employers promised to pay him for his month+ recovery time.

The story's so sick-sweet it can almost make you believe in humanity again.

To compliment the story, I wanted to post a picture of a real kidney, but got squeamish after checking a few out. Never was good with blood and guts. Instead, this picture indicates where you should aim if you intend to punch someone in the kidneys. Which somehow seems more New York.

It's raining today, and I'm cynical. Does it show?