Taxi ride to hell

brimful's recent misadventure in a cab reminded me of my worst cab ride EVER (and this is saying something: I was once in a cab in Quebec City when the cabbie pulled on to the shoulder of the highway and threw it into reverse for about a 1/2 mile because he'd missed the exit.)

I was in Toronto for a college friend's wedding and stayed in a lovely B&B in Cabbagetown. (If you're ever in the YYZ, I recommend Banting House.) Unfortunately for me, World Youth Day was also in town. World Youth Day is a bit of a misnomer - apparently, it's really when ginormous groups of Catholic kids and 'utes' descend on a city. And then the Pope comes, and everyone is happy. Except those of us who are trying to get to the airport at the same time as the teeming hordes that showed up for World Youth Day.

The proprietors of my B&B suggested hiring a car, and made all the arrangements. When the car arrived, I knew I was screwed - the driver was Pakistani. Because it was a hired car, he knew my first name and felt the need to use it. A lot. As in, "You're very quiet today, [maisnon]" Um, what?! That's something you can say when you actually know someone.

The highlight, though, was this:

Cabbie from Hell: So. What is the meaning of [first name]?
maisnon: (internally: WTF, anyone from the subcontinent knows what it means!)
maisnon: (out loud) It means light
CFH: That's RIGHT!
maisnon (internally: Dude, did you just QUIZ me on the meaning of my own name??)
CFH: So.....are you A LIGHT for anyone??????
maisnon (internally: seethe seethe seethe. I can't believe I'm dealing with cheesy pick-up lines AND I'm paying for the privilege!)

Prior to this incident, I never lied about my marital status. After this incident, I'll admit - I've lied when it seemed the less painful thing to do.