Talking about Swedish old ladies, one afternoon in December, I picked up an old lady from Westend, South-East Espoo. Westend is a district where the bold and the beautiful live in their big and fancy mansions.
Arriving at the lady’s house and seeing her exit it, I exited the car. I opened the passenger door for her, set her seat in the right position and helped her sit in the car.
A view in Westend and a small dock
So we arrived to Helsinki. The navigator directed me to stay in the left lane and stay on the highway, not take the exit on the right to Ruoholahti. The lady said we should take the exit but wasn’t sure.
I kept going on the highway until it ended and asked the lady if she knows if should I turn left or right. The navigator still directed me left, to the center of the town. The woman answered the question with a serious and an important face, that she doesn’t know, but the place she wants to go is not on the left.
I decided to follow the navigator and turned left. To that, the broad started yelling and lecturing me: “Where are you going, do you even know?!” She kept bad-mouthing me: “How did they even let you behind the wheel of a taxi? I am going to complain to the calling center, that you can’t find the destination!” That wasn’t all. She told me that she would not go on with me and insisted that I’d stop right there.
I turned left to a bus stop. I stopped car and “paused” the taximeter. I was thinking if I should listen to the screaming woman or keep driving according to the navigator.
I decided to keep driving but the screaming got even louder. I then thought it would be safer to stop the car again and decide together with the lady how should we continue.
There was no point talking to her rationally. She just kept shouting “You won’t drive anywhere! I will call my granddaughter and then we will know where the hell we are.” She was tripping balls.
In the meantime I called my bass. I asked him if maybe he can explain how I could get from where we were to where we needed to be. There was no hope, the shouting in my passenger seat was louder than anything I heard on the phone: “Hey, no talking on the phone! You won’t go anywhere until my granddaughter gets here! You are a fucking idiot!” Yes, that’s what she said.
The boss managed to explain to me that actually I’m in the right place. I just needed to drive about 100 meters, then turn right and take another right. But the queen did not give a shit…
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