September. This happened at about 4.30am in Helsinki. I was just returning from East-Helsinki where I had just taken a client. The direction was back towards the city center.
I had just turned down to a smaller street from Itäväylä, when two guys in their twenties waved at me from the right side of the road. I stopped the car, presuming the men wanted to go somewhere. They turned out to be two drunken Germans who needed to go to a hotel called Rantaspi, Rantapi or Rantansity in Vantaa. Try to understand Germans trying to pronounce a Finnish name in English while they’re drunk. When I later looked for the hotel on the Internet, I realized it was the Rantasipi hotel next to the Helsinki-Vantaa airport.
I asked them several times: what is the name of the hotel? I couldn’t understand shit. I asked if they knew the address or if they had anything with the hotel’s name or address. Nothing.
Then the guys asked me if I knew any Citymarkets or K-Markets near the hotel. Well, I hadn’t seen any near the airport, because there are only about two specific routes I take when I go there. On those roads I have only seen a big Jumbo shopping center.
So I told them I wasn’t aware of a Citymarket next to the airport, which boggled their minds. They asked me how the hell could I not know such a thing, “being a taxi driver and all.” I wanted to ask them if they know the burger shot next to the big building in Frankfurt. Oh you don’t? What the fuck guys?!
One of the guys sat in the front during the conversation. But when he saw that I didn’t know where they needed to go, he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. Like that wasn’t enough, he yelled to me: “Haah, fuck you, fuck you!” moving away and towards the car and looking pissed. What a jackass.
The other dude was sitting in the back. We tried to solve the problem. We spoke calmly. I explained to him that I hadn’t heard of a hotel by that name, never ever. He called his pissed-off buddy back to the car and apologized to me, but his friend wouldn’t listen. He was still screaming while walking back and forth on the autumnal Finnish grass.
I told the calm guy sitting in the car that I could call the information line and ask about the hotel and where it could be. That it wouldn’t be a problem. But his friend kept yelling, swinging his fists at me and at some invisible people while still screaming “Fuck you, fuck you!” I was starting to get irritated myself. I wanted to get out of the car and take out my frustration. But why should I ruin my shift for an imbecile?
I finally told the calm guy in the backseat: “Please leave my car. I am not taking you anywhere. Your friend is acting very aggressively and I don’t need any problems.” He didn’t argue and exited the car right away. I started to drive away, the passenger side window open. The yelling idiot jogged next to the car and was still cursing. “Fuck you, fuck you!!” I had had enough and yelled back: “Fuck you too, you fucking moron!” Hearing that, the German started boiling, screaming even louder and trying to kick the car. I pulled away from him a bit, when I saw him trying to do that. When I saw he was planning to really damage it, I just drove away. I watched him receding in the mirror, still trying to catch up …