Is every cab in Toronto falling apart?
When I get into a cab that smells and looks like 1973, I immediately run down my mental “am I trapped in a sociopath’s rogue death taxi?” list:
a) where’s the camera (if they have the camera above the rearview mirror, I reason they must be connected to some established cab company)
b) check the license… is it the same dude driving?
c) check to see the meter exists and is turned on
d) look for the clipboard with the list of past fares
e) listen for the dispatch radio
f) look for my rider bill of rights
It seems I’m doing this little dance in my head more often these days. I’m not a ‘fraidy pants 100%, it’s just a paranoid little tick I developed living in the city. I try to be aware of my surroundings… and think about it, you are getting into a car with a complete stranger.
Maybe because it’s winter, the cabs are in rougher shape – but the ones I’ve been in lately have been hellish – I felt like the floor might give way in one!
My second observation for today is more of a thank you to the newly christened Diddy, formerly known as P. Diddy only hours ago:
“I felt, to be honest, that the ‘P’ was getting in between me and the fans. These days, you have to be close to your fans, you can’t be ‘too cool for school.’ They have to be able to connect with you… I was at Madison Square Garden doing a concert and half the crowd was chanting ‘P. Diddy’ and the other half was chanting ‘Diddy.’ It was confusing.”