November. I picked up two older ladies and an older gentleman from Espoonlahti at about 10 p.m. Dressed respectably and well-spoken. They seemed to be Swedish, because I heard them talking in Swedish between themselves.
We arrived to Kauniasen without any problems. One of the ladies wished to exit the car when we got to her house. After she had left, the old-couple in the car told me they wanted to go to Martinlaakso district, in Vantaa (from Helsingi about 17 kilometers North-East). I had not heard of that place before in my life.
The gentleman gave me the address, I entered in the navigator and took off. After about 5 minutes of driving, it turned out that we had a little problem. The old couple wanted to take shortcuts and drive on the smaller roads. The navigator showed me the faster routes – on the bigger highways and motorways. So I trusted the navigator and we took the bigger roads.
Well the couple was a bit drunk, the lady more than the man. During the trip, the woman in the backseat started to moan that we’re driving in circles and that they should be home by then. Yes, I missed a turn, but right away I paused the taximeter and let the gentleman, who was sitting next to me, know. I asked for his help and directions where he would like for me to drive. The mellow and chatty gentleman had no problem with that and offered his help. He directed us back on the right route and the journey went on as the taximeter ticked.
The lady in the back still wasn’t happy about things and continued to cry in the backseat. She then moaned: “Fuck this, I am not paying for the drive!” and that she would complain about me to the calling center.
I then politely and calmly tried to explain that if the drive is long and there are thousands of streets, you can arrive at the destination in a number of ways. And maybe she could forgive me, because it was the third night on the taxi for me and I didn’t know shit about how I could get from one place to another.
The granny in the back still couldn’t get off the carousel and kept adding fuel to the fire. I thought it would be better not to argue, explain or apologize to a dumb person. It all seemed useless to me. I just smirked to myself and ignored the woman. Surprisingly, the man next to me had had it and yelled to her: “Hey, that’s enough! We’re going to get home in a bit, take a few shots, you’ll calm down right away.” I had a tough time holding my laugh back to that and the man started laughing himself.
We managed to arrive without further problems, the lady still moaning by herself.
I stopped next to the couple’s house on the street. The gentleman thanked me for the ride and started to pay. I asked if the price was okay and if everything was fine.
Then we had another little surprise. The day before, during my round, the printer had run out of paper so I asked Teet to show me how to change it. But instead of showing me, he just changed it. Now, if I tried to print the receipt, no text would appear on the paper. He had put it in backwards. “Fuck, this is just what I need,” I thought to myself when I saw the blank paper. Already, the chicken had been clucking in the back during the whole trip, how she would complain about me. Now this shit.
The drunk chicken had gotten out of the car and was now standing on the sidewalk with her “wings” on her hips, trying to be important. Of course she kept moaning how unsatisfied she was with everything.
The gentleman kept his calm. We were thinking what to do – I needed to give the receipt to them somehow.
So I called my boss, explaining the problem I had and asking for advice. He just mumbled something on the phone. I then came up with the idea to take the client’s information and that the boss would send the receipt to them later. That’s what we decided to do.
In the meantime, someone had approached the car. It was a bloke who had too much to drink. He had a croaky voice and wrinkly face. He had …
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