Real stories of taxi drivers. Three stories of Moscow taxi drivers about foreign clients. Fight against corruption

Taxi stories.

Hi all! I think that often all of you girls use taxi services. Have you had interesting, funny or terrible situations with taxi drivers? If there were no taxi drivers, then you can talk about the subway, or buses, or even airplanes.

I often take a taxi. Taxi drivers are normal, but there are not adequate at all. Once, one began to complain that his fiancee was cheating on him with everyone, but, like, it was not the most salt. The real point was that her stepfather raped her, and she has an injury, so she is not to blame. I was blown away by such revelations. He also asked me not to get out of the car and listen to the end.

Once again, I got into a taxi, and the guy was some kind of strange. And the thought flashed through me that he was a sectarian for sure - I'm lucky for sectarians. Well, after a few minutes, he turned on church howls and asked if I would like him to tell me about God. I grinned and said that I thought he would want to tell me about God. Then he tried to taunt me with the fact that I probably did not read the Bible, and that it was a sin to wear pants. I answered him that yes, I am aware of all that, I told him about God, and at the end I added, like, do not judge, but you will not be judged. It was funny that he was surprised that I knew everything perfectly, and that it would not work to treat me. Moral - do not judge people by their appearance and jump to conclusions. Wrote so short - I do not like a lot of letters.

My husband taxis in the evenings, let's tell me interesting stories about taxi drivers.

I took a taxi about 10 years ago. What for to drive a flawed car with a driver from neighboring countries, if you can sit in your super cool car and drive, enjoying?

Classic. They called one price when calling a taxi, and upon arrival it changed dramatically. In Egypt. But when they themselves bombed with the groom 3 years ago, there were always great stories there.

I went by taxi three times in my life, no excesses.

It infuriates me to explain to taxi drivers in Asia where I need to go. As a rule, they don’t speak English, and they don’t understand my memorized phrases in Chinese or Japanese either, I always have to carry a piece of paper with the address with me. In principle, nothing particularly interesting happened, it happened, of course, that either I poured out my soul to taxi drivers, or they poured it out to me, but this is the norm.

There are business-class taxis for especially fastidious customers, where there are good cars and neat-looking drivers.

Once I went by taxi, and the driver farted so that my mascara flowed. Everything.
Then I repainted the face.

In the Stambul. I was driving home after work, I was tired, I couldn’t even walk, I got into the first car. We set off, which means that the driver also turns on the music loudly, I ask him to slow down a little. He says, they say, no, she threatened him that I would go out and change a taxi, he was immediately like "wait, wait, wait, I have something else for you." And .. Turns on the disco ball in the car! Disco Thrower, Carl! I, bald, rode, and no longer blathered.

There was one time when they were rude. Like, now break the door, it did not open. There was not an accident, but a nightmare, when I accidentally got into a taxi.
I thought I wouldn't come back alive.

Today again, again Istanbul, I get into the car, chew a bun, offered the driver a piece. He didn’t take it, but on the way he figured out tea for me in the car. I could, of course, pour something, but I trusted, and everything is fine!

With taxi drivers I have constant fun, they will call me on a date, then they will tell about my life. With one, they talked so animatedly about the rules of traffic rules that he did not notice how he drove a red one and the police stopped him. And once I came across a very friendly elderly man - a taxi driver. We talked with him along the way. He gave his phone to watch a video where he reads his poems at the monument to Lenin, he was given a bonus for this - 10 thousand 800 rubles. Then he announced that he sings well and the rest of the way we sang the black crow.

One taxi driver told how he took his woman to the forest to teach a lesson, and in general, in 15 minutes, he managed to tell about all the women in his life, he was under drugs.

I argue with taxi drivers very often. Sometimes it almost comes to blows. In general, such insolent drivers come across sometimes! And so - the scoreboard is meaner, and they won’t stick with conversations

Nothing special. A taxi driver of Caucasian nationality rolled up and offered a free ride in exchange for my phone number.

The most adequate taxi drivers, by the way, are men slightly over 40 years old in Toyotas.

Oh, I take a taxi almost every day, but there was a case in a trolley bus! I’m going home, which means I’m coming to a bus stop, I’m stupid on the phone, I’m reading my favorite forum, and then I noticed that a seemingly diligent peasant is standing at the exit and waving his pussy. It was freezing cold outside, and he just waved again, tucked it back into his pants, zipped up his fly, and left. Curtain.

My girlfriend and I had sex in a taxi. The driver almost went off the road into a ditch. I am a girl.

Once, due to ignorance of the language, they “rolled me” far away, trying to take more money, and they didn’t even take me to work. I yell in a wild fury, threw him money as much as the trip would really cost. And at this time (it was at the tourist palace) another Turk opens the door for me, and says "welcome to paradise", I almost let his guts through this door.

Oh, until recently there was a woman taxi driver who looked like Yanka Adams and listened to a thug chanson.

Everywhere I find adventures on my ass. Somehow the same taxi driver came across three times in a row; began to grab his hands and offer a dispute: if he comes for me again, we will sleep. I don't use this taxi service anymore.

Oh, if so, I also left the entrance, and got into the car with the man, thinking that this was my taxi. Of course, he was stunned, and then I was also embarrassed, because at his puzzled look I said, they say: “and why are we standing, let’s go,” in the end everything was figured out, and he still drove me where I needed to.

Today I was traveling with a Georgian taxi driver, 48 years old, they sang songs and laughed.

I remember that we fall out of the club in our distant youth, at 6 in the morning the nine "wet asphalt" stops, a fierce trance sits there, in clothes in the style of the film "Pretty Woman", stockings in a large net, a white wig and so on. Probably two meters tall. But the phrase killed more strongly: "My letters, where are you?" - with an inimitable pronunciation. I sobered up.

I constantly go by taxi, more than once many taxi drivers tried to pour out their souls to me, they used to swear with taxi drivers because of the music. In general, in a taxi, I usually abstract from everything around me, otherwise talkers often come across and not everyone immediately understands that I'm not in the mood for talking, but it seems like nothing special. Although somehow one grandfather of about 60 suggested that if I let him hold his knee, I might not pay. I looked at him so that he felt cramped in the car.

It was on the bus. One day my friend and I got very drunk and in the morning we went by minibus home. We sat forward to the carrier, I sat closer to him. In short, they began to knock me out completely, and I lived my head on his shoulder five times. It was so embarrassing afterwards.

And I noticed that almost all taxi drivers have Renault Logan, either Deo Matiz, or Lada.

Once, on a business trip to Ivanovo, I was taken by a priest, a good man. He earns as much as he can, he wants to build his own parish, that's why he works as a taxi driver. We talked sincerely, good uncle. But the coolest taxi drivers are usually driven from the airport. There was a taxi driver in Moscow who offered to make money on electronic money, for 40 minutes he persuaded me to come to the nanomoney seminar and blah blah, he promised that I would get rich. Another said that he worked as a bartender in the 90s, and he was listed in the Guinness Book of Records for making the largest cocktail and also said that he found a suitcase with money in the subway.

Well, once he vomited on the bus.

In general, with the emergence of such services as get-taxi, commander, and so on, it has become easier. If something is wrong, I immediately call the dispatcher and complain.

You also talk to taxi drivers! I - headphones in my ears rather, just not to listen to this garbage.

Taxi drivers always talk to me about their lives, complain about something, pour out their souls, apparently they feel that I am a psychologist by education. And once a taxi driver scared me a lot. I get into the car, close the door, and he says to me: "Do you want to ride for free?". I freaked out. I sit and think, maybe I should call the police, or run away. And then it dawned on him how it sounds. He began to laugh and said: "The dispatcher made a mistake with the address, I've been looking for you here for 20 minutes." Oh, how let me go then!

On the train, in a compartment, the three of us rode: below me, and a man of about 50, at the top a guy of about 20. The man immediately went to the restaurant. We went to bed. I hear - at night the peasant returned, I tell him, open the door a little, otherwise it will be stuffy. He agrees, like, now I'll change clothes and leave the door ajar. A couple of minutes passed, he tries to slightly open the door and he does not come out. He screams in fright that the conductor has closed us. I got up to help, the door opened slightly, the light came on in the compartment, I look - this freak is sitting without panties.

I stood at the bus stop, waiting for the last bus. In addition to me, there were two more people who needed to go to the same area, but there was no bus. I decided to call a taxi, those two didn’t know what to do either, offered to go with me, drove well, then scraped up the taxi driver for the fare, the guy turned out to be good, drove all three of them home, drove cheerfully.

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A story happened to me the other day. Not exactly in a taxi, but also entertaining. Went to visit late at night. I'm standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus. An SUV pulls up and stops in front of me. The driver unbuttons his pants and invites me into the car. I turned away, I thought, leave. Naive! I stand, do not leave, turn my head, and there the work is in full swing. Well, I moved away from the car, closer to the people. Still worth it. Here is my route. I sit down, I leave, I exhale. I drive, I turn my head, and he rides near my window without stopping his satisfaction. I start to drive and give him pleasure with all sorts of gestures, as a result, I show if he will give me money? Having received a positive answer, I show that I get off at the next stop. He meets me by gas, and I am a dynamo.

Once I got into a taxi, roaring, we talked for a long time. Let's go for a little ride. We drove under some kind of bridge, who knows where, and the taxi driver started smoking weed through a bottle. Smoked, we chatted again. Then we drove closer to my house, and he took out a hair dryer, began to make paths, the parish complained normally like that. Rode with him for 3 hours. Didn't take the money. In general, there are many stories with taxi drivers. I take a taxi every day.

The sectarian taxi driver was selling me his books while we were driving!

The most amusing cases with taxi drivers were when, in my youth, after clubs, I felt sick on the go.

I'm sorry, it happened once. I vomited like a fountain after the club in tangsi. Terribly ashamed, but what to do?

One day, my grandmother and I were driving in a taxi through the store. I was about 15 years old.
Grandma went to the store, and I sat with the driver. And he says "now I'll show you something." I took out a box of shaving gel for my legs, and while my grandmother was gone, I shaved my entire household!

A friend told me quite a tin: at night, in the cold, the devil knows how long the taxi was waiting, finally, an impressive uncle arrived: under fifty dollars, a beard, an earring in his ear, rings stuffed on his fingers. In general, all the way the uncle looked at him predatorily and carefully. The acquaintance was not quite sober, and decided that he was worried that the salon would not vomit for him. It wasn't there. As they began to drive up to the entrance, the taxi driver became more active - his hand crawled to his fly. The acquaintance went nuts, fidgeted, let's count the money, and the uncle smiles at him, and strokes his fly. According to a friend, everything seems to have cost the standard payment, but for some reason he refused to call the company and complain.

Okay, in youth it happens to everyone that they feel sick in the car after the club, on this New Year's Eve I asked 3 times for a taxi to stop on the way home.

I worked as a flight attendant in my youth (in common parlance - a stewardess) and now we had a flight to Krasnoyarsk. I was responsible for the blankets and pillows. We took off, 15 minutes pass after takeoff, and I went to distribute them. We have them in the oxygen compartment in bags. I open the door and there is a bunch of shit on bags. I go to tell the senior flight attendant about this, he does not believe me, and we go to look at the shit together. It was someone who, in 15 minutes of takeoff, was able to climb up there (and the door to these bags is next to the doors to the toilet) and, having climbed onto them in the “eagle” position, shit the entire takeoff. Here is a passenger so a passenger! Upon arrival, the technical service, to whom I handed over these rugs, looked at me like that, as if it was me who had shat, so as not to spread them.

I have many such stories. Once I was driving with a crazy driver. He was talking to himself. How to talk on the phone. And so he was indignant from time to time. I thought that he was in the earpiece, but when I listened to this nonsense, I immediately asked to stop. But the most chic was that it was a training machine, I had another functioning pedal under my feet. They brought a man. Not funny, but scary.

I worked as a conductor for 2 seasons, there are a lot of different stories, both funny and not so much. What I remember most was when the passengers were robbed at the station because they didn’t close the compartment, and they accused me, like, I gave a tip. And there was also a passenger who drove wedges to me for half the flight, I was freezing, and then he came and began to complain that his fiancee had kicked me out.

Often I go by taxi, constantly, practically. But somehow there were no special cases. I always sit in the back and control the process.

Somehow, on May 8, there was a race in honor of the holiday on Lenin Avenue, and in this area I had to pick up the camera from the workshop, I did the work, but I was also late for practice, and I had to go to the other end of the city for about 30 minutes, I decided to call a taxi and to pay without cash. While talking, in the background a man heard and shouted that taxis would not be able to come here. He called his friend, a taxi driver, he made his way through the yards, took me home, we exchanged phone numbers, got to talking. Now this is my husband!

5 years ago, my friend and I were waiting for the opening of the metro after the club in the morning. A foreign car stops, offers to give a ride - the amount is not big, like, along the way. And I had met this man before in the company of one. He recognized me, and in a friendly manner for a small surcharge offered to give me a ride home. At first they drove normally, then turned into a back street and got out of the car and began to climb into the back seats. I started yelling, and there was just a hostel for students - and two guys and a girl, apparently, they were walking by, went to the car to find out what happened. And they took me to the subway. Tin, in short!

We went by taxi, and the taxi driver smoked weed and offered us.

In-in. And I thought that they stop just to bomb, but it turns out there. In general, I was surprised that the uncle is young, even attractive and quite presentable. And his arm span was not small, that's what people lack?

Apparently, he likes the process of violence. The man who drove me Firstly, we still knew each other and through mutual friends I could find out his address and surname. Secondly, on a new BMW, with money, I could rent a prostitute. But, apparently, what they want is physical and moral violence - in general, there is a mess with their heads.

Usually taxi drivers begin to ask the nationality, then about the family. One recently killed at all, says - you are 16 years old, my son is 19 years old, do you want me to introduce you? I say: "uncle, I'm 23", he was stunned.

Here's a story I had. Also a good big car, but I was 17 years old, and I walked with the dog. I was walking along the sidewalk, and like two men I was cut off by this car. I lathered my heels to run. Then it turned out that these two keep the store with us. I really regret that I was young, that I didn’t write a statement. And although, what's wrong with it, our legislation is not very good.

It was in China. The driver tried to cheat on money, they have a taxi meter, and in China there is such a feature that the driver can press a button and the money rolls faster, they do this with foreigners. Like, we are idiots, and everything is fine. We were traveling with friends, I know Shanghai perfectly and I know how much it costs to get there and which way. At first, he began to carry another road, he ignored all requests to go along the short road known to me, then the money quickly began to accumulate, and we didn’t even drive half the road. As a result, we yelled at him, the taxi driver stopped the car and we got out without paying him, but why the hell? He didn’t deliver, and the amount was huge, as a result, he grabbed my girlfriend, started pushing her into the car, pushing her, and so on, we got into a fight with him, called the police, spent the whole night in the police, clarified everything. As a result, even the beatings were removed, because the driver grabbed his girlfriend by the hand to the bruise, he was deprived of his license, and he was also attributed moral damage. When we left the polling station, I had never heard such a swear word in Chinese.

In general, it was like this ... About eight years ago or something like that, my older cousin worked in a taxi. Everything is as it should be - a taximeter, checkers, a walkie-talkie. Audiukha-weave of the late eighties, a gas cylinder in the trunk. Looking ahead, I’ll say that there is quite a lot of space in the trunk, despite the balloon, even despite my 1.9 meter height. :) End of summer, still warm, few calls, nothing to do. I ride with my brother. The city is small, as soon as the order - he drops me off in the center of the city, drove the crowd - picks up, we go on bastardizing. Here and there, here is the evening, here is the night. After a couple - three of such landings, I feel it got colder. Worthless, brother, I say, I'm freezing, however. And yes, it started to rain. I just managed to say it, the door creaked softly ... Challenge! The bro opens the trunk, and there, after a recent fishing tackle, some covers. Get in, he says. It's warm, dry and all that :) I tried to open it from the inside - it worked. And so I’ll tell you, comrades, I settled comfortably - I didn’t even expect it myself. In short, let's go ... We flew to the client quickly. Lying. I hear they are packing. The doors are slamming. :) We flew. I hear - cracking all over the car. We've arrived. They talk about something, they don't come out. But I can’t hear very well - the music is playing ... Further, according to the words of my brother. He took, in general, two clients, a husband and wife, about forty years old or younger. Cheerful, a woman has a bottle of good wine with her, a peasant has an empty bucket. Well dressed. A man squeezes to put a bucket in the trunk, no, I say, it’s busy there, let’s go to the salon. While we were driving, we started talking, jokes, oh my. We've arrived. We are standing. And then the woman shoots - oh, they say, such a good guy, come on, they say, have a drink with us. And she, hee-hee-hee, presses a smile. And what, easy, open I say. Here the man from the back seat is stupid - so you, he says, are driving. So what? Now I'll get the spare driver out of the trunk and go. Baba: hee-hee-hee... Don't you believe it? Here the music becomes quieter, bro opens the door (the light in the trunk lights up for me), I hear: - Driver ... Voodiiiteeeel ... Well, I think my finest hour has come. I'm lying, catching up courage. I myself am already in snot from laughter, I’m almost torn to pieces. In general, I missed a couple of calls, then I could not stand it. I'll get it all out - here I am - I make an exhausted face, put my head out the window, and knock on my wrist watch finger with the text: - Well, what the hell, I still have 20 minutes before the shift. I change my face to an offended one, I put it back in the trunk and slam the "door". The silence is deadly. The bro crushes his smile, the man claps his eyes around, the hollow does not beat off what it was. And the brother was not at a loss - why, they say, with us, he says, in "157" everyone drives like that. The man can already be taken out. And the woman is well done, she was not at a loss. - In "157"? And these can, he says, I'm not surprised at all. He comes out silently, picks out the man from the back seat - and off we go. We drive off around the corner, I'll get out, and for about ten minutes we just cry ... Estimate, brother, says my eldest, but they will tell this story to children ... And friends ... And relatives ...

P.S. This is not the end of the story!!! Two days later, my brother calls me, almost swallows the phone from laughter. A colleague-taxi driver arrived at the same address, the client, they say, he was caught sick, before getting into the car, he asked to show the trunk ...

It was necessary to take one person from the bar home. I drove up to the entrance, waiting. A girl comes out and gets into my car. But since I was not expecting her at all, at first I thought that she was with the person I was waiting for. And she calmly looked at me and said: "Well, why are we standing? Let's go!". I quickly figured out that the girl who was well drunk had simply confused me with
taxi driver. The mood was good and I decided not to break it off right away, but to have a little fun.
- Where we go?
- Lenin street, house 45.
- Do you have anything to eat at home?
- What?
- Is there any food?
- There is. Why are you interested in this?
- I'm hungry, I want to eat.
- What?
- I'm very hungry.
- What about me? I'm not going to feed you.
Well, then I'm not going anywhere.
- And why is that?!
- My religion forbids me to take money from people, I work for food.
What other religion? I have never seen such a rude taxi driver! I will complain!
- To whom?
- to your superiors
- Yes please. You can call right now. Give me a phone?
- I'll call you! Let's phone!
I give you my number. The girl begins to nervously poke at the phone, and I, barely holding back my laughter, turn off the sound on my mobile so as not to burn out ahead of time.
- Nobody picks up the phone!
- And you wait a little longer
- You wait, but I won't wait!
The girl jumps out of the car, slamming the door loudly. I decide that if I'm kidding, then in full, I go to the "Unanswered" and dial her number.
- Hello. Did you call the car?
- Yes
- Get out. The car drove up.
- I already left, but your driver is a boor! Send a good driver!
- They sent you a great driver, just give him something to eat.
- What?
- Feed him dinner, well, or at least buy an ice cream.
- What nonsense are you talking about?
- This is not nonsense! This man does not take money, he works for food.
- I'm not going to feed him!
- Well, as a last resort, you can refuel his car. Explain to him that gasoline is food for his car.
- Yes, you all seem to work there for food!
- How did you guess?
- No way! I will complain!
The girl hangs up. But the story doesn't end there. She calls back a couple of minutes later.
- Hello. Taxi?
- Yes
- Who am I talking to? I need someone from the authorities.
- You are talking to the director, I am listening to you.
- Your employees are terrible boors, I intend to sue you!
- Yes you that?! Tell me more about what happened?
- I won't say anything. I'll see you in court. What is the name of your taxi?
- "Hussars"
- Didn't understand.
- Our taxi is called "Hussars". You probably remember this phrase from the old joke: "Hussars don't take money"? So we don’t take money, we work for food.
- Everything! My patience has reached its limit! I will definitely sue!
- Submit, but keep in mind that if we win the court, we will not demand money as compensation. You'll have to whole year on Fridays, feed and water our entire friendly male team for free in the most expensive restaurants in the city.
When I told this story to the man I was waiting for, he laughed for a long time. And then he asked what the girl looked like, asked for her number and started calling her.
- Hello. Girl, did you order a car? ... How not with us? And who has? ... And what kind of car? ... You must be confusing something, this is our machine. Wait, he'll arrive right now ... Oh, are you already on your way? Well then, have a nice trip ... Thank you for using the services of our taxi. Not just
forget to feed the driver! ... Lenochka, don't shout like that. I told you I was a good wizard, but you didn't believe me. I said that I still recognize your phone, but you did not believe. Did I say that we should spend this evening together? If I didn't say it, then I do. Wait sweetie, I'll be there soon!

Brest. Train Station. Glorious nineties. Taxi drivers are clustered outside the station. A train arrives from nowhere (history did not save the train number). Suddenly, a person of Caucasian nationality appears from the door at the speed of a wildebeest and shouts with screams and an accent that he is late for the plane and there are 20 minutes left before departure (in those days a lot of planes flew from Brest in different directions) and if someone is 10 minutes to the airport, he will receive as much as 100 dollars.

But by the will of fate, it is so that the airport and the railway station are very far from each other and you can’t get there in 10 minutes or even 20 (well, if you don’t have a formula 1 car). But one badass coachman-taxi driver asks: "Exactly 100 dollars?" In response, he hears: "Yes, dear, here's the money ahead !!!" The taxi driver says: "Well, let's jump and rush."

They rush at full speed along Brest (and whoever has been in the city knows that a passenger plane is exhibited in the city on Gavrilov Street, like a museum exhibit, and with a certain skill and if there are no traffic police, you can get there in 10 minutes).

In 10 minutes they are 50 meters from the museum exhibit on Gavrilov Street. Taxit says to the son of the mountains: "Look, it's still standing, run to get registered." Well, he took the bag and rushed faster than a cheetah to the museum with wings ... For a month, a child of the mountains went to the railway station in order to find and kill the reptile. But friends warned the bastard. The smoker is still alive.

She worked as a taxi dispatcher. An order has arrived. The dispatcher-colleague informs the client:
- Leave in five minutes. Mazda is waiting for you, metallic blue.
Further from the words of the driver:
- I'm standing. I'm waiting for a client. A woman comes out of the door. She walked around the car twice, then carefully approached the half-open window and asked:
- Are you blue Vitalik?

Dispatcher (D) and taxi driver (T) conversation:
First hour of the night.
D: Do you have a trunk free?
T: Not exactly… But I can quickly release…
D: What do you mean? what do you have there?
T: Mmm… Partner…
There was silence.
D: What is he doing there?
T: Like what??? Asleep!
After that, the laughter of other taxi drivers was heard ...

There is a conversation between a taxi dispatcher (D) and a taxi driver (T), discussing an order from a veterinary clinic:
T: Royal, what if they take an animal there?
D: not excluded
T: what about the animal in the salon?
D: maybe they will take a hamster there?
T: why treat a hamster? they are sold in bags in the store!
D: I’ll probably tell you a terrible secret, but hamsters get sick too ..))
T: this is how you need to love a hamster ....

source: car center

A few days ago I installed Windu to one friend ... ..
Well, I sat up to the knowledge. A friend called me a taxi 062, I said goodbye and went out into the street.
Stoyus near the entrance, I smoke and think about the everyday life of the admin .......
An ambulance pulls up and stops next to me. I continue on my own wave - I do not pay attention ... ..
The ambulance driver lowers the window and issues:
- “Did you call a taxi?….”
I, breaking away from my thoughts, did not find anything better than to say:
- "Yes".
(B) - "Where? ...."
(I) – “What, where?….”
(B) – “Where is the client?…”
Then it dawns on me what the conversation is about, but out of interest I continue to play the fool ....
(Me) – “Which client?…..”
(B) - "Well, who called the car?"
(I) - “Well, I called. What?….”
(B) - "Did you call yourself ???"
(Me) – “Who else?! Of course yourself.
(B) - “Eeeeeee………..So everything seems to be all right with you……”
(I) - “Nunihrenase ... .. It was still not enough for something doubtful that something was wrong. Of course, I doubt everything is in order!
Here the doctor sitting next to the carrier can not stand it:
- "Which entrance is this???"
(I) - "Second"
(Doctor) - "Damn .... Petro, we need a third one!!!”
The ambulance goes on - I stand smiling. They also have their own sense of humor “…Did you call a taxi?…. »
Duc enta is not all.
I see my car pulls up, with 062 checker, and stops next to me.
I go around the car to sit on the other side. He just took the handle and he - brrryn .... and departed...
I think maybe I went to turn around ....
And nifiga! Drove 10 meters and stands. I stand a damn, look at him and he stands to himself and the engine does not turn off ....
I approached the car - I just grabbed the handle - the door opens and some girl comes out of there. He closes the car door in front of my nose and hides in the entrance ....
Still confused, I try to open the door again, but the taxi driver hits the gas and takes off in an unknown direction ...
Damn what a mess!!!
After 10 sec. another car of service 062 appears - you guessed it, mine.
I sit down, I say the address - we go. I hear on the radio - that today they say there were some powerful geomagnetic storms ...... Maybe that's why I slowed down so much ??? ... ..

A funny incident happened to a taxi driver and a not very sober married couple.
A call came in for a cafe. I drove up. A man puts his wife in the back seat, says the address, and she says something in the style: "Yes, dear, I'll still stay here, so don't wait too early." The taxi driver drove further down the road to turn around and, returning back past the cafe, he sees that the same man is waving his hand, well, he thinks he forgot something there. He stops, and a man without a fawn sits on the front seat and, talking on the phone, says into the phone, "Yes, I sent my mymra, in general, wait for me, I'll be there soon" ...

I'm in a taxi. We have fun talking with a taxi driver. Suddenly, a woman is voting on the road. The time is late, the taxi driver asks - will we pick it up, if on the way?
- Sure, not a problem!
We stop - it's on the way. Well, she sits back.
At this moment, while continuing to communicate with the taxi driver, I tell him a good old joke.

Russian and Chukchi work at the plant.
A Chukchi worker comes to the director and complains that the Russian constantly insults him, calls him a fool, a blockhead, an idiot, and so on.
The director calls the Russian and says:
- Why do you call the Chukchi a fool?
Russian:
I don't call names, he's really stupid. Do you want me to prove it? Here, invite him here.
Invite.
Russian:
- Chukchi, here are the keys to my house, run and see if I'm at home or not?
The Chukcha takes the keys and runs away.
Russian director:
- You see? Well, a complete idiot.
director:
— Yes, really idiot, I would have called first.

Told. Well, the driver laughed a little. Behind is silence. Apparently she did, I think.
We drive for three minutes in silence.
And suddenly, unexpectedly, an indignant female voice from behind:
But not every house has a telephone!

Soviet times. A woman driving is a rarity. And they worked in a taxi depot a few. One somehow arrives from a shift - and the ticket is all stained with a black felt-tip pen (also a shortage then!), And with such force that it is even torn in several places. And the traffic police seal is worth it.
They began to ask: what happened?
It turned out that she tried to turn around at the crossroads, well, she didn’t fit in (who rode the Volga “will understand ...) She drove back a little, turned around - and then the traffic policeman slows her down - reversing is prohibited at the crossroads. Takes a ticket and makes a record ...
The woman immediately rushes to the street of the Khokhlov Family - there is the city traffic police there in Kyiv, bursts into the regiment commander and slaps this ticket on his table. He looks, turns purple, his glasses fog up ... He immediately grabs a felt-tip pen, marks out everything that is written there, puts a stamp and says: they say, go, and we will deal with our goat ourselves ...
For a long time, probably, the entire taxi park laughed, remembering this story ... What did the traffic cop write on the ticket?
And here's what: GIVED BACK AT THE CROSSROADS.

I hasten to tell you the following story, which I recently remembered. I think you will like it. Read!

It was the third hour of my night shift. Not shaky - not rolls, I work slowly. I heard my call sign on the radio - hurray, order! The dispatcher warns: "Do not be surprised at anything, take it, do not be afraid. You will definitely be paid." After such words, of course, it became interesting to me, what kind of passenger is there? But the dispatcher is silent, not pricked. Okay, I think I'll come - I'll see for myself. It is already suspicious that the call is not at some address, but at a gas station located on a bypass road.

I drive up: there is no one at the gas station. What the hell? Is it a joke? I ask the dispatcher: what does this mean? She laughs: go inside, say that you came on a call. I do everything as the dispatcher asks: I go up to the operator and say that I am a taxi driver, I came on a call. I see that he, too, is choking with laughter! And then ... gee!

A naked middle-aged man comes out of the service room, covers himself with a newspaper. And I must say that it is winter outside, ten degrees of frost! Yeah... Lucky man! I drive the car closer so that my smaller passenger can spank barefoot in the snow, turn on the stove: let it heat up. Go!
We talked along the way. It turned out that the man became a victim of his weakness, which he had for young beautiful women.

I met the day before with such a pretty lady, though she turned out to be married, but she assured me that her husband was on a business trip in the neighboring region. And this beauty persuaded him to take a steam bath in a bathhouse ... Everything turned out so well: he convinced his wife Tolik (let's call him that) of the need for an urgent late meeting, and the lady's place of residence turned out to be quite far from the center, which ruled out the possibility of a "puncture".

In short, the doves were steaming in the bathhouse, the matter had not yet reached the “debauchery” (why rush?), Tolik, according to Russian tradition, jumped out to cool off with a snowball, and then it began ... He noticed that five people were quietly making their way to the house, " gangster type. Remembering that he is still a businessman, and comparing some facts, the guy made the right conclusion: this is not a deceived husband, but just a setup. That is, until you notice, you have to do your feet! And he pulled with all his might, not feeling the cold! So I ended up at a gas station, where I was able to call a taxi.

I took him home, helped him justify himself to his wife (they told her something about a robbery, she seemed to believe it). Tolik left me a rather expensive ring as a pledge. he had little cash at home, only bank cards.

The next day we phoned and Tolik paid me very well. Now he decided not to go to the side anymore ... with unfamiliar ladies: you never know!

I am a taxi driver. I'm going this morning. It seems the mood is wow, the sun is shining, spring is felt. My heart aches in the morning in anticipation of romance, and here it is ... a miracle ... A stunning blonde with a figure of a goddess from a "mini-bikini" is voting. I stop, she opens the right front door, gracefully brings in her divine body and joyfully, without looking at me, says in a magical voice:

Hello.
- Hello, - I answer a little stunned and delighted with unexpected familiarity.
- How are you, how are you? - the fairy continues to enchant me.
- Nothing, thanks! I happily support a rapidly developing relationship.
“I dreamed about you all night today,” my lovely passenger unexpectedly declared.

What was left for me to answer in the conditions of an unexpected hormonal surge. I giggled stupidly and gave out a brilliant phrase:
- You know, I also had a premonition of meeting you today.

Suddenly she somehow strangely and sadly looked at me with her eyes and says somewhere into the void:

Forgive me, dear, I got into a taxi here, it’s not very convenient for me to talk now, I’ll call you back later ...

Oh, these modern wireless bluetooth aces are all sorts of things to me.

It seems to me that any story should settle in the head of the narrator before he tells it to the interlocutor, who, in turn, tells the next one. The story heard from someone takes on some colors and, perhaps, some conjectures reach you, and the conclusions of the narrator, if he does not think over his story properly and does not accurately set the time of the action or confuse the characters. But on the other hand, you may like a story heard from a stranger, even if the story contains inaccuracies, overlaps of events, absurdity and illogicality of the situation itself, the main thing is that the plot of the story is intriguing and unusual. Such a story can be remembered for a long time. It will be possible to retell such a story to your friends, and they, in turn, will retell to their friends, and as a result, the essence of the story will acquire a completely different shade, completely different from the original, and the characters and the time of the action will be greatly distorted.

The story of one taxi driver led me to such an idea, two days ago (it took me exactly two days to put everything I heard together and convey the story exactly) he drove me from the airport to the city. It was cold, not like now, but really cold. April was on the calendar, but the air temperature did not exceed +1, there was no snowfall, but it was really cold. My flight landed in the afternoon and the sun should have been out by now, but the gray clouds drowned out all the sun's attempts to warm the frozen airport. Only sometimes the frosted glass of the terminal reflected its light. Reflected and immediately disappeared, bringing nothing but disappointment from the late spring. Well, okay, I'll leave nature alone, I was just very annoyed by the lack of heat, that's all. So, I left the terminal building, walked a few meters along the path to the right, went down a bit and heard the fervent exclamation of one of the taxi drivers: “The last sober driver!”. I looked at him - the taxi driver is like a taxi driver - stocky, plump, with a cigarette between his teeth, with a red face. “Well, apparently from the cold, and not from alcohol, he has a red face,” I thought. He was stomping around and apparently wanted to get into his warm car for a long time, but he had to somehow lure customers from the arriving flight, so he shouted this stupid joke every 5-6 seconds. A bad joke, no doubt, but I somehow liked this man for his cheerful attitude, and I decided that I could afford to return to the city by taxi, and in the company of a merry fellow, and not in public transport as I had previously planned. I slowed down a little further away from him, unfolded my suitcase and hobbled back. “Hi boss, how far is it to town?” I inquired. The taxi driver looked at me, narrowed his eyes a little - it was at this moment that the smoke from the cigarette got into his eyes. - “To the nearest metro station - 1000 rubles. And if it goes further, we'll figure it out. Sit down, I won’t cheat, I know my conscience, ”he added, squinting. Cigarette smoke never left his face. I looked to the right at the bus stop, looked at the taxi driver, looked a little to the right of him at an empty cozy foreign car, and decided to go with him. Money allowed me to even take a taxi from Moscow to St. Petersburg, so at the moment comfort was more important than money (a rare occurrence, isn't it?). "Ok, boss, let's go." The taxi driver did not stand for a long time, immediately picked up my suitcase, folded its handle on the move, went up to his car, opened the trunk and deftly threw the suitcase deep into the depths, without hitting either the headlights on the car or the raised hood, slammed the lid and trotted into the driver's seat. I tried to keep up with him, and also tried to get into the back seat of his car as quickly as possible. Why did I sit in the back seat? Everything is simple. My height is a meter plus 87 cm, and I feel uncomfortable in the front seat. The knees rest against the torpedo, and interfere with gear shifting if you spread your knees, which is very annoying for the driver. I'm a driver myself and I know what I'm talking about. So I sat in the back seat, where a tall person (long?) can sit comfortably. I sat in the back seat, made myself comfortable and thought if I should take off my jacket (it was warm in the car), but I decided to sit in the jacket for a while, maybe with the movement it will be cool? And I wanted comfort in everything. The taxi driver opened the door and flopped into his seat, carefully closed the door, fastened his seat belt with a habitual movement (another plus of the passenger seat in the back seat, because the passenger does not have to fasten this fucking belt), twisted the radio receiver knob at the desired frequency and turned on the first gear.
We drove away from the parking lot and headed for the city, the taxi driver rounded the nearby minibuses, then the big mastodons - MANs and began to taxi onto the highway into the city. In my opinion, he still had to pass through several barriers, dropping a parking ticket into special holes, but I don’t remember how many there were. Maybe two, maybe three. I remember that in front of the barriers the car strongly jumped on the speed bumps. With sin in half, we drove onto the highway, the car picked up speed and smoothly glided along the highway. I remember turning my head around, but I didn't see anything interesting. One boring landscape - an airport hotel, parked cars, mini-buses, and a couple of people standing next to them. We drove on, well, then I saw a field covered with snow, rare trees along the roadside, and that's all. I sat comfortably and stared out the windshield, just the gap between the front seats allowed me to do this.
Do you know how you can strike up a conversation with a stranger in a car, with an unknown driver? Everything is simple. Look around and say with feeling: - "They brought the fucking country." Well, it works one hundred percent, I myself am a driver and I think I myself will “be taken in” by such a comment, so to speak, I will support, or rather, start a conversation, because they really BROUGHT the country. And you can look around and say how this damn spring got in quotes and when it will finally be warm, and not +1, slippery on the roads and half-frozen puddles. I must say that to start the conversation, I chose the second option. He hinted about spring and warmth, and when will it (spring) finally come.
The taxi driver took a smoking cigarette out of his mouth, opened the driver's window slightly, shook off the ashes there, took another puff and threw the bull out the window, deftly blew the rest of the smoke out the crack and raised the window to the stop.
“Nothing that I smoked here?” he inquired.
“It's all right,” I replied, “I'm a smoker myself, it's all right.
- Well, okay. The taxi driver looked in the side mirror and deftly re-arranged the car in the left lane.
- You ask when spring will come? I think soon, these colds are not for long, and nature always takes its toll, doesn't it? He slyly winked at me in the rearview mirror.
“You are right about that,” I replied.
We were silent for a bit. The taxi driver was the first to break the silence.
- You know, five years ago it was a very early spring, in April you could swim. Don't remember?
“Not really.” I tried to remember what the weather was like in April five years ago and couldn't. The last ten years of my life went smoothly, and each year was not particularly different from the previous one.
“No,” I repeated, “I don’t remember.
“I remember,” said the taxi driver. He looked now in the right side mirror and rearranged the car, apparently letting some scorcher in the left lane pass. Do you believe in mermaids and witches? he suddenly asked.
I was a little taken aback by such a question, I did not expect to hear something like that from a grown man.
“No, I don’t,” I smiled.
- But I do believe. Or soon I will. Anyway, I saw something five years ago, and around this time. Want to tell? He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pulled out one, lit it, and threw the pack on the dashboard.
- Tell me. - I didn't mind, it was about 20-30 minutes to go and it was possible to take the time with amusing chatter, and not listen to the next hits of pop stars on the radio. The taxi driver took a puff on his cigarette and blew smoke under the windshield of the car, looked in the left mirror and again re-arranged the car into the left lane.

Five years ago I worked in another taxi company, he began. - The times were good, with the "nineties" can not be compared. The salary is decent, and overtime was paid regularly and no one ran into us. If someone stayed on the second shift or replaced one of the guys, it was well paid. I don’t know who was in charge there, and who distributed the money, but everyone was happy and willingly earned money on carts. The taxi driver took a puff, opened the side window, blew smoke into it and continued. - One guy worked with us, his name was Maksimka. Or Max the Loafer, as the men called him. He was a good guy, he could joke about the topic, after changing a glass or two, he was not a fool to go “to the left”, but he was just a simple one. He believed everything and took everything at face value. Yes, and his appearance was suitable - a red curly head, freckles on his face, a kind of fool Vanka from fairy tales. - The taxi driver grinned and looked in the right mirror, but did not change lanes. - Just at the beginning of April, our Tamarka, well, the park manager asked me to make a flight. It seems like a flight as a flight, but far from the city of the client to pick up, and it was already after midnight. Well, Maksimka responded to the chatter, accepted the challenge, hit the road out of town, took the client where he needed to, but after that he was kind of gloomy. Change did not tell anything about the flight, and moreover, he sent everyone three letters and left home. Well, the men attributed everything to fatigue, and they forgot. After that, Maxim disappeared. He did not come to the park, he did not answer calls. Well, our business is that small - turn the steering wheel and that's all. This is the problem of the personnel department, maybe a person got sick? Or maybe he got sick for a day because of the “blue”, does it still happen?
“Of course it happens,” I said. The taxi driver inhaled again and blew smoke into the ceiling.
- The next evening, our other dispatcher Svetka asks to drive up to the client, just where Maksimka went. Something in my heart pounded immediately, but I did not attach any importance to it. I was the closest to that place, so I responded to the “chat”, and Svetka, as I remember now, somehow kindly thanked me for the accepted challenge. And maybe, as usual, it just seemed to me something in her voice. Seductive something. The taxi driver took a deep drag on his cigarette, opened the window and spat out the cigarette butt. - I drove up to the address, - he continued, - and the place is somehow dense. Well, how can I explain to you? Imagine huts, huts on one floor. The smoke from the chimneys under the roofs curls, as if the villagers are 70-100 years behind the townspeople. As if there is no gas, no light. Fences made of slabs, shoulder-high, the road is not paved, only clay and sand, and puddles are everywhere. There is one pole with a lantern for the whole village, such a village for 10-20 houses, no more. I was surprised, of course, how the Luzhkovs hadn’t taken such a place into their hands and built cottages instead of these shacks? Yes, again, he did not attach much importance to his thoughts, but in vain. I drive deeper into this village along the potholes, cursing, spitting on the road (the springs are not rubber after all) and I see that three girls are standing by a pole with a lantern. Young, fashionably dressed, they cannot be compared with the image of village young ladies. I drove up to them, slowed down, opened the door ajar, asked if they called a taxi? Yes, they say we called. And they look at me with such curiosity. - We need to go to Easter, it's not far, and they start laughing. “Sit down, I say,” and they themselves opened the back door and began to sit down. It seemed to me that they climbed into the salon in a couple of seconds, but what's surprising? The girls are young and slim. The five of them could fit in the back seat. - Well, ladies, show the way, - I say, and one of the girls waved her hand - they say, go ahead and laughed. And the rest of her friends burst into such infectious laughter that I couldn't help but laugh too, it's not clear why. We started off and I felt like I immediately rejuvenated by 30 years, some kind of courage appeared or something, it became warm. And here's something else. I smelled the scent. - The taxi driver closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, as if again trying to remember all the details and accurately convey them to me. - The aroma, so ... so fabulous, so quiet, calm. Each girl smelled differently, and each one gave off a delicious aroma, and if you try to smell their common smell that was in the car, you could inhale it without stopping and it was p. .p ... - I forgot the word, the taxi driver said. - Wonderful? I suggested. Yes, it was wonderful - The taxi driver was silent for a while, then said. Don't think I'm not some kind of pervert. These girls were good for my granddaughters, I'm just telling you what I felt and I'm trying to tell you everything exactly so that you understand everything. “So far, everything is clear and understandable,” I answered, laughing. The story takes a pleasant turn, doesn't it? you in the evening with three beautiful girls in the car, something must definitely come out of this, - I sincerely laughed. - Yes, the taxi driver answered, - something will really happen from this, but later.
- I was driving further down the road, if you could call it that, and the girls in the back continued to laugh and discuss something. You know, I didn’t want to listen to their conversation, I don’t have such a habit, otherwise my head will start to break from the flow of passengers’ words by the end of the shift. Even then, I didn't try to listen to them. I just drove the car as smoothly as possible, as far as potholes allowed and that's it. We passed the whole village, and the road began to descend. I would say not just down, but along some kind of serpentine, which surprised me a lot. As if the road suddenly became a kind of whirlpool, but not sharp, but smooth. I remember that I just turned the steering wheel to the left and did not let it go, and the car went down this serpentine. A minute later, the serpentine ended, and we drove onto a fairly decent road, at least it was straight and without potholes. We drove a little more, and then one of the passengers clapped me on the shoulder and shouted: - Stop the car here, we have arrived. I pulled over to the side of the road and looked around. It was dark around, only the outlines of a bush along the roadside, and a couple of pines were visible. The girls clapped their hands and began to look at each other, and the one who clapped me on the shoulder looked at me in a very strange way and said. There is a lake nearby and we want to swim. Maybe, - she continued to stare at me, - you will join us? You are a prominent and serious man, we are not afraid of you, - added another girl. - To be honest, - said the third, - we liked you, keep us company, and then we'll go back, just dip once and back.
- You know what, girls, I'm too old for such games, I know how such a thing usually ends, but my wife is waiting for me at home, and it's already too late. So I pass. If you want, I can wait for you here and take you back if you don't swim for a long time. The girls looked at each other and one of them said with a smile - Well, pass, then pass, and we thought you were a whist, - she opened the car door and began to go out. The second girl followed her, she turned around and said - You don’t need to wait for us, go home. This place is Easter. A third girl followed her out of the car. She looked at me for a second and said. - You don't have a wife. Two years since I left you. And then as if fluttered out of the car and the door slammed shut.
The taxi driver fell silent, reached out his hand to the dashboard, pulled out a cigarette from the pack lying on it, handed it to me. “Light up,” he said, “you don’t have to open the window.”
I took the offered cigarette, - Thank you, I haven't smoked for a long time, since I arrived at the airport, - I said.
- How do you like the story? - inquired the taxi driver.
I hesitated a little with the answer, choosing the right words. - The story smacks of hell, and most importantly, there is no ending. Did you just leave like that? Did you wait for the girls? And what about that strange village where you picked up these girls? What kind of place is an "easter egg"? And you should have known something about your colleague Maxim? How is it supposed to be connected somehow?
The taxi driver smiled sadly and said, The Right Questions ask. He paused and continued. - As soon as the door closed behind the third girl, I pulled a cigarette out of the pack, as now, lit it and began to think. To be honest, this whole situation also seemed like hell to me, as you correctly noted. Too many ends didn't meet. This village is forgotten by God, the road is serpentine, and the girls themselves did not get out of my head. To be honest, - he repeated, - I was frightened, I was frightened of everything, especially after the words of the third girl about my wife. After all, she really left me at that moment about two years ago, but along with fear, a desire burned in me, - Do you understand what I mean? I nodded my head. Like, I understand, but I'm not ready to judge for it strictly. The taxi driver, apparently, liked my nod, and he continued. “I decided to go after the girls, follow them first. I turned the car around. The road, oddly enough, turned out to be wide, I turned around from two approaches, went out, and did not specifically lock the door. You know, at that time the door was locked with an alarm. And it was possible to open it only with the signaling, which squealed terribly. Therefore, I left the door unlocked, anyway, no one should have been in such a wilderness. I crossed the road and approached the bushes behind which I assumed the girls had disappeared. The bush was sparse, and I effortlessly began to make my way through it. I tried not to make noise, and, oddly enough, I succeeded. The twigs and sticks did not break under my feet, the fallen leaves did not rustle, and the very branches of the bush parted in front of me almost by themselves. Suddenly I heard a girl's laugh. I bent down, stood in this position for a while and moved a little further inland. After walking a few steps, I noticed girls bathing, they were knee-deep in water, splashing and laughing. I looked around, choosing the best position for observation, but found nothing. I was in the perfect place to peek. The bushes hid me completely, and I could watch the girls, but they would never see me. It was dark, and I saw only the silhouettes of girls, and heard their fuss and laughter. I tried to peer into their silhouettes. Frankly, the girls excited me, but I didn’t want to crawl closer, the bushes hid me perfectly, and I didn’t want to be noticed. It was then that I noticed that the girls did not splash water on each other, but threw the ball, just because of the splashes and very low light, I did not notice the ball at first. I didn’t notice this ball in my car, and I didn’t see how the girls brought it with them. They threw it to each other like a game of school volleyball, not high, but simply from hand to hand. Yes, and the ball was too heavy: when one of the girls could not catch it, he plopped into the water, like a weightlifter's projectile or like a kettlebell, raising splashes. In my mind, an inflatable ordinary ball could not behave like that. But it turned out to be not an ordinary ball, but a human head. The taxi driver took another cigarette out of the pack, lit it and continued. It was dark, but I could make out the head because the moon was shining. Not all the time, but occasionally the moon peeked out from behind the clouds. When the clouds left and the moonlight illuminated the lake and those girls, I swear to God I saw a head. - The taxi driver dragged on a cigarette, - For a moment it seemed to me that I saw eyes and a mouth on a dead head, and more hair. Red hair. For a woman, the hair was a little short, but for a young man it was quite suitable. The girls took them with their fingers and tossed their heads to each other. I barely audibly groaned and sat down with my ass on the ground, and then began to slide towards the water. I remember exactly how the soles of my boots touched the water, I tried to get my feet under me, but nothing happened. I slipped into the lake. I saw one of the girls turn around and stare at me, while the other two burst out laughing.
“And we thought that you would not come, because everyone always comes,” she laughed. “Everyone always comes,” her friends replied. - Everyone always comes, - already all three girls looked at me and began to repeat. Everyone always comes, everyone always comes. - I tried to turn around and crawl out of the lake. And apparently I succeeded. I must have grabbed the bushes I had recently been hiding behind and pulled my body out of the lake. Then he ran to the road and to the car he had left. - The taxi driver dragged on, threw the bull on the road, - I don’t remember how I got out of the lake. I remember how I got there, and then - bam - and I'm already sitting in the car. - I did not think long about what had happened, but immediately started the car and gave it gas.
The taxi driver was silent for a moment. - Did you serve? he inquired.
- In the army? No, he didn't serve.
- I served. In Afghanistan. And you know what? I think the skills and abilities acquired in the war, in that situation on the lake, helped me survive, get out of the lake and run to the car. I came to my senses only in the car, started the engine and pulled off along the road. I drove 400 meters, but did not see the beginning of the serpentine, although I remembered exactly that it should have started long ago. The road was straight, a little bumpy, but straight. I drove another 200 meters, and my car jumped out onto a perfectly paved road, the road to the village. But this was not the village where I took the girls. The houses were modern, brick, behind high fences. I heard dogs barking, there was light in the windows of the houses and I noticed the flickering of TV screens. I raced along this village (or urban-type settlement?), and turned onto the main highway leading into the city. On the highway, my car jumped out so suddenly that I barely had time to turn, otherwise I would have landed in a ditch, but at a speed of 80 km. in an hour it would be possible ... - The taxi driver abruptly took to the right, missed a passenger car hurrying somewhere, returned to the left lane and continued. I managed the car, got in line (“stand in line” is the common jargon of motorists, meaning to change into one or another lane on the highway and follow the cars as far as traffic allows) and drove further along the highway into the city. I remember I saw the rear dimensions of the cars in front, these dimensions, as the red lights were either approaching or moving away from me, and I tried to hold on to their light and drive on. Get as far and as fast as you can from that lake. Soon I crossed the border of the suburbs with the capital, I drove another 200 meters and saw a stall with shawarma by the side of the road. - Now there are no such stalls, - the taxi driver said, - the current mayor liquidated them all. And five years ago, such stalls rescued motorists. We, taxi drivers, loved to linger at such stalls after the shift, we always missed 50 grams, no more, bought shawarma, drank and ate and retold to each other all sorts of stories that happened during the shift - So that time I turned to the stall. I turned off the engine, went to the window and asked for 100 grams of vodka. I remember that the attendant didn’t even look at me, but simply poured vodka from a bottle into a plastic two-hundred-gram glass of vodka and pushed it towards me. I drank vodka in sips, and felt its burning effect on my throat. I remember I drank everything without a trace and for some reason put the glass back on the counter, and did not throw it into the nearby trash can. The owner of the stall looked at me inquiringly, - they say, do not pour more? I shook my head, rummaged in my pocket, pulled out a hundred rubles and put them next to the glass. Thank you friend, that's enough. I turned around and walked towards my car. I heard the stall owner call out to me, offering to take my change, but I didn't even turn around. I went to my car, opened the door and flopped into the seat. He took a deep breath and looked in the rearview mirror. I didn't see any witches on broomsticks or mermaids with tails. There was a normal flow of cars. Not a stream, but every ten seconds cars slid past me. And then suddenly my “chatterbox” started talking, I heard the familiar voice of Svetka. “Don't tell anyone what you saw,” she said. - No one, otherwise you will regret it, you hear? I have heard. I pressed the answer button on the chat room and spoke. - I will not say. I released the button and immediately heard the voice of one of our guys from the chat room, - Why don’t you say, what are you talking about? I forgot (how could I forget, because I've known for 20 years that chatter works on all broadcasts and the dispatchers and all the guys on the shift heard me), I just forgot. But he repeated into the microphone the first thought that came to mind, - Yes, the client just paid me twice as much as the “tax”, I was “dead”, - I laughed, - but not today, okay, guys? Tired as hell. “It’s a pity that not today,” I heard in response, “well, introduce yourself later, it won’t leave you.” And the voice from the chatter speaker laughed. I didn't quite hear the last words: "you'll introduce yourself" or "you'll introduce yourself." Damn, the difference is one or two letters, but I sensed a very unhealthy catch in the words of the speaker.
I sat in the car for a while, trying to figure out what was really going on, but I got even more confused. Didn't make ends meet - You know what I mean? – Asked the taxi driver, looking back at me. I exhaled heavily, the story continued, and very entertaining. I didn't disappoint the taxi driver by pointing out inaccurate and inconsistent data, but I liked the story itself, and I wanted to hear the ending. In my imagination, I saw a taxi driver come home, go to bed, or rather fall on the sofa from fatigue and fall asleep, and in the middle of the night one of the girls from the lake flies into his apartment and throws her head with red curly hair on his stomach, while laughing. I chuckled and said. I understand, but questions remain. For example, did you clearly hear the voice of your dispatcher Svetlana and did you correctly understand the words of your colleague about putting down from an unexpected addition to the payoff? - Payback? The taxi driver chuckled. You have chosen the right word. - Retribution, that's what awaited me.
- I arrived at my house without incident, the walkie-talkie, well, our chatterbox, was silent. The road was free, there were no traffic police patrols, nothing and no one prevented my return. I parked the car in a free place near the house, oddly enough next to the entrance, because usually all the places are occupied here. I went up to my apartment and collapsed on the sofa. I slept for three or four hours, apparently the vodka I drank on the highway helped me fall asleep. I didn’t see dreams, or maybe I just didn’t remember them. Just passed out and that's it. But I woke up as suddenly as I fell asleep. I swung my legs off the couch and stared at the far end of my room. I remember trying to convince myself that the whole damn thing was just a dream, and I almost convinced myself of it, when suddenly I heard muffled sounds coming from the bathroom. It was as if something was falling into my cast-iron bath with a dull and rolling sound. I went to the nearest light switch, flipped the lever, and, already in the lighted room, stomped to the bathroom. He opened the door, but did not see anything superfluous. A mirror, a sink under it, a toilet on the right and the bath itself. I looked into it and saw nothing. Matte walls, a bottom slightly yellowed from time to time, a drain hole at the end, that's all. I returned to my room, made the bed properly, lay down and slept until eight in the morning.
Then I woke up, had a breakfast of scrambled eggs, went downstairs to my car, started it and drove to the base. On the way, I slowed down at the nearest stall and bought 3 bottles of vodka, arrived at the base, went to the guys in the garage, handed them the bottles, we talked, discussed the shift, I tried to be as vague as possible, without going into details. The men had already begun to open and pour vodka into glasses, and I quietly disappeared from the garage and went to the personnel department, where I resigned of my own free will.
The taxi driver was silent, and so was I. Is that all? I asked, slightly puzzled. “Yes,” the taxi driver replied. My story ends here, I did not begin to find out where the head of the girls on the lake came from, and I am sure that it was Maxim's head, I did not file a complaint with the police. He paused. - I hear sounds in the bathroom all the time, and I'm almost used to it, but I have one thought, he was silent for a second, - what if I voiced this story to you, and these mermaids or these witches - who knows who they are, so to speak, let me go and switch to you? - He winked, - what do you say? Is this possible? After all, I was warned not to talk about the incident by the lake, and if I tell you, maybe the sounds from the bath will disappear, and you will already hear them, because you will already be the main witness? He emphasized the word "you". I laughed. - Let's check. I heard the story and now I'll get home and go to the bathroom, because I'm damn tired and a hot bath will obviously help me. If I hear the laughter of mermaids or see red head then I will let you know. Can I get your mobile phone number or will I have to go to the port to inform you personally?
- Come, - said the taxi driver. “If you really see something unusual and.. and..” He hesitated, looking for the right word. - Something frightening and terrible, - he remembered already without my prompting a word, - you will come.
We stopped at the metro station, I handed the taxi driver a thousand rubles, opened the door and got out of the car. The taxi driver was already approaching the trunk, he took my suitcase out of it and put it on the sidewalk. “Well, good luck getting there,” he grumbled, and did not wait for my answer and, bowing his head, trotted to the driver's seat.
I went down to the subway, dragging my suitcase at the feet, and sometimes over the feet of passengers like me who returned from trips, and arrived at my station without any incidents. I stomped to my house, opened the door to the entrance, went into the elevator and pressed the button for my floor. I waited for the elevator to take me with my suitcase to the right floor, and went out to the door of my apartment.
I slammed the apartment door, put the suitcase in the corner of the hallway and began to undress. Then he unpacked his suitcase and went to the bathroom. I could feel the soft streams of water and the familiar smell of shampoo. I washed up, got out of the bathroom and thought about getting a bite to eat. I didn’t eat from the plane, where we were fed, as usual, with tasteless casseroles, but I decided to sleep anyway. I spread the bed, lay down and passed out. Apparently, the flight and the way home from the port took a lot of energy.
Six hours later I woke up, it was already evening, the sky was black outside the window, and I felt hungry. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, choosing something tasty. Then I heard the sound of running water in my bath. I decided that the gasket in the faucet was worn out and I would have to fix it this evening. I walked down the hallway, opened the bathroom door, and immediately the sound of running water disappeared. I stood for a moment, carefully looking around the taps, but did not notice a single drop. Everything was dry. I turned around and went back to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator again and took out burgers and rice, put them in the microwave to warm up. Then I again heard the sound of running water in the bath, I ran to the door and jerked it open. The sound immediately disappeared, I went to the sink, carefully examined it, but did not see a single drop. I left the bathroom, waited for the microwave to warm up my simple meal, and had dinner. I will not hide, I listened to the bathroom, if I would hear the sound of water again, but everything was quiet. I ate, washed the plate and went into the room, sat on the sofa and wanted to turn on the TV, when suddenly I heard the sound of pouring water again, but along with the pressure of the water against the sink or the bath, rather the bath, something heavy hit, I distinctly heard those dumb rumbles. Boomm, hrrr, Boomm, hrrr. I rushed to the bathroom, opened the door and saw nothing, and the sound immediately disappeared.
I returned to the room, sat on the sofa and rubbed my temples. Then, as quietly as possible, he walked to the bathroom door and hid. I did not wait long, literally immediately I heard the already familiar sound of water, I opened the door, and for a split second my eyes fixed something in the bathroom. An object, but rather a ball, which at first bounced a little, and then began to be sucked into the drain, and I must say, it was sucked up very quickly. I ran to the edge of the tub, reached out my hand, trying to grab the object, but it disappeared into the neck of the drain. I looked at my hand and in the palm between my fingers I noticed a strand of long red hair. I squeamishly shook them off my hand and returned to the room, walking around in thought. There was something to think about. I had no doubt that the sounds in my bathroom were real, if you could call it that. I recalled the story told to me by the taxi driver and, comparing the facts, I decided that obviously something alien had now settled in my apartment. It was this alien and terrible that got the taxi driver before he told me his story. And now, perhaps, this something evil has settled in me, and left the taxi driver alone. I walked around in thought a little more, when suddenly I heard a woman's voice from the TV. Don't tell anyone about this, do you hear? Otherwise it will be worse. I jumped up in surprise and stared at the TV. His screen was off, he showed no picture, but the voice definitely came from the speakers. This is where I got really scared. I didn’t intend to go to the bathroom again, I didn’t want to once again feel long thin wet hair on my arm, and even more so on my body. I sat on the edge of the sofa and put my head in my hands. "I won't tell you anything, just leave me alone!" I shouted into the room. I listened but didn't hear or feel anything. I sat on the couch for a while and went to the refrigerator. I opened the door and took out a bottle of vodka. I poured an almost full glass and greedily drank it in big gulps. He returned to the room, sat on the sofa, listened and heard the sound of pouring water.
I could only throw my hands up and lean back on the couch. A glass of vodka did its job - I felt much better, and most importantly, I stopped being afraid, but some kind of apathy attacked me. I was sitting, or rather already reclining on the couch, listening to the rumble of water coming from the bathroom.

In this position, I fell asleep. I woke up three or four hours later, listened, but everything was quiet. I sat up on the couch and immediately heard the sound of running water in the tub. I instinctively pulled up my legs and sat like that for about 30 minutes, listening to the sound of running water. I remember I returned to the kitchen one more time, drank half a glass of vodka and returned to the sofa, I did not look into the bathroom. What's the point? I tucked my legs under me and dozed off. I often woke up, sometimes I heard the sound of water, sometimes not. I think that I often just dreamed about this sound, once I even jumped off the sofa, when I once again heard a splash of water, ran to the bathroom door, but did not open it, but only grabbed the handle and immediately recoiled. I went back to the sofa, lay down and tried to sleep, tried to wait for the morning. Indeed, when I woke up in the morning, or rather moved away from dreams, I did not hear anything. I clearly remembered all the nightly adventures, and lay on the couch for about an hour, listening, but did not hear anything. I lay there for another hour, but the bathroom was quiet. I carefully got up from the couch and stomped into the kitchen. I didn't look in the bathroom. I took the kettle and drank water, I had been feeling dryness in my mouth for quite a long time, apparently the vodka I had drunk the day before made itself felt. And then I heard a thud in the bathroom. As if something heavy, round fell into the bath and then swept. I threw the kettle on the table. He, oddly enough, did not fall to the floor, but slipped and stopped at the edge of the table. Then I rushed headlong into the hallway and began to dress, dressing somehow, I ran out the door and almost head over heels down the stairs into the yard. I ran out of the entrance and slowed down a little. I noticed a passerby and ran up to him. “Listen, I need to tell you something,” I tried to grab the passerby by the shoulders, but he pushed me away and hissed, “Fuck off, stupid, one more time and I’ll knock your tooth out. He looked at me for a second and walked on. I looked around and noticed another person. I ran up to him and also tried to speak. “Listen, I have something to tell you. - The second passer-by calmly looked at me, moved his shoulder and passed, saying through his teeth, - Go, hangover, tell the devil everything. He began to move away, and I stood and looked around. I was trembling, and, probably, I really looked like an alcoholic, who, apart from irritation in unfamiliar passers-by, causes nothing. I stood up, tried to pull myself together, but I was weakly able to do so. I went to the end of the yard, where there was a small shop, went in, bought two bottles of beer. I was glad that in the jacket that I put on when running out of my apartment there was a wallet with money. I went to the shop at the nearest entrance, sat down, uncorked the beer and drank almost half of it in one gulp. He took a deep breath and began to think. I thought for a long time, maybe two hours. I was finishing my second bottle of beer when I already roughly understood what could help me. Or rather, what could help me was clear, I had thought about it the previous night. I needed to tell the story to someone else at all costs, and then I was sure that the visions or hallucinations would leave me. Here are just passers-by people did not express much interest in me, but rather frankly sent to dick. It is understandable. I would have done exactly the same in their place.
I sat on the bench for a while, thinking over the details. I already had a plan, but some details confused me. I began to freeze, but my head cleared up. Apparently, the effect of the drunk beer affected, I began to perceive the world around me very clearly and soberly. I finished my beer in two sips and stomped to my entrance. I took the elevator up to my floor and entered the apartment. I took off my shoes and jacket and went into the room. Then I turned on the computer and listened. Everything was quiet. All I felt was the sound of the computer booting up, the refrigerator running from the kitchen, and nothing else. I waited for the computer to show me the usual splash screen operating system and sat down in a chair. I opened a tab with an Internet explorer, chose the very first link in the list to the Moscow taxi driver forum, went through the mandatory registration, and clicked on the "create a new message" button.
And here I am, a 33-year-old man, writing this story on the forum of the website of one of the leading taxi parks in the capital. I believe that if as many people as possible read this story, then all the devilry will undoubtedly go into their apartments, but with little force, so to speak, distributed between them, and, perhaps, the sounds in the bathrooms of forum readers will not be heard by them and no one will even notice.

He was a taxi driver in the worst sense of the word. To rob a drunkard, to tear off three skins from a visitor, to swindle a lonely woman was a matter of course for him, but he still knew how to deceive a respectable passenger. The main thing is to earn, because money does not smell. And they often had to fight for them. In the literal and figurative sense. Without it in a taxi in any way. Time went on as usual, and he calmly watched how his soul hardened, how he became indifferent to people, to himself, to life. There was no family. Friends too. A few relatives lived in other cities. He didn't get along well with people. He had long ago come to the conclusion that life was not a success, and only work distracted from sad thoughts, and a hard pre-trip medical control didn't let me sleep. That's how he lived. It seems to have lived...

One late evening I stopped at the Volkovsky cemetery to count the money earned during the day. Out of the corner of my eye I watched a young woman on the opposite side of the road unsuccessfully trying to catch a car. The place was remote, although close to the city center. Rare cars stopped, but they did not want to take it. He was about to leave when he saw her walking towards him. Rolled down the window and asked where to go. She gave the address.
He whistled, “Far! And how much do you pay?
All clear. For such money, no one will be lucky. Seeing a pot-bellied bag in her hands, he mockingly asked:
“What do you have there? Gold, diamonds?
“Yes, this is my son’s clothes. They put me in the hospital."
The gloomy building of the children's city hospital, seen nearby, was familiar to him. In early childhood, he was brought here when he fell ill with hepatitis. He was a home child and missed his mother very much. Sometimes at night, when everyone was asleep, he got up, and, going to the window, looked down into the street for a long time, hoping to see his mother. She, of course, was not there, but he continued to stand until it became cold. Then he climbed under the covers, and, covering himself with his head, quietly cried. For the first time, he felt abandoned and alone. He is now alone, only he has forgotten how to cry.
Pushing away unwanted memories, he threw the usual "Refuse!" and not listening to her persuasion, he left. He did not have time to drive far when in the rear-view mirror he saw two men who appeared next to the girl from nowhere. One pulled out the bag, and the second, holding her mouth, dragged her into the nearest bushes. Stopping the car so that it was not visible to the attackers, he pulled out the tire iron and quickly headed back. When he heard the sounds of a struggle and strangled cries for help, he pretended to be drunk and purring something under his breath, turned into the bushes, supposedly to relieve himself. Feeling sneaking steps behind him, he waited the necessary time, and turning around sharply, hit the approaching one with a crowbar. It turned out well. The attacker silently sank to the ground and rolled to one side, remained lying without moving. He jumped up to the second one, who was raping the girl, and from the bottom of his heart stretched him on the back with a crow bar. He howled and tried to get up, but another blow, this time a kick to the groin, made him instantly curl into a ball of pain and calm down. Well, he grabbed the girl by the hand and jerked her to her feet. With the words "Run! Faster!" dragged her along. He didn't want to wait for the police to arrive. You can also get a term for exceeding the permissible self-defense. Moreover, the one he hit first did not show signs of life. Unexpectedly, the girl pulled out her hand and returned to the rapist. She kicked him several times with her foot and, only after that, she ran back, taking at the same time her bag, which was lying nearby.

When they jumped into the car, he pulled away, so that he smelled of burnt rubber, but did not turn on the parking lights so that random passers-by could not see and remember the car number. After driving a couple of blocks and seeing that everything was quiet and there was no chase, he calmed down himself. Now you can smoke! The girl sat silently, putting the bag on her knees so that the torn dress and bruises on her legs could not be seen, and seemed indifferent. But he knew she was stressed. He stopped the car and took out a bottle of vodka, which he bought for himself for the weekend, poured her some and forced her to drink. She coughed from the breathless alcohol. Tears welled up in her eyes and they were unstoppable. Let him cry! Look and feel better. He turned on the gear and drove on in silence, giving her the opportunity to cry and recover. Gradually, she calmed down and only trembling fingers, when she dragged on a cigarette, betrayed her inner tension.

"Thanks! Saved me from these freaks! You are a real man! You can rely on….
She still said something laudatory to him, but he no longer listened.
"Stupid! Can she rely on me! How! - evil thoughts completely spoiled the already Bad mood, - "And why do I need this rigmarole ..?"

The first person he betrayed in his life was God. They were taken with the whole class on an excursion to the Hermitage. See pictures. The martyr's face of Christ, the blood and those terrible nails with which he was nailed to the cross, struck the boy's imagination. At home, his grandmother told him everything she knew about God and he believed in his existence. Immediately and unconditionally. But in the courtyard, when he shared his discovery with his peers, he was ridiculed. It turns out that there is no God! And everything was created by Nature! He did not want to become an object of ridicule and he easily renounced the God that had just opened and fell in love with him. So he became an atheist. To be like everyone else! But in fact, out of fear of becoming an outcast. Moreover, God was not to be feared. He is merciful and forgiving betrayal. As well as his best friend, whom he betrayed in a fight, fainthearted and shamefully ran away. His relatives also forgave him when he could not come to his father's funeral. A good reason is the defense of a thesis. But he soon betrayed the profession of engineer, going to work in a taxi. Many people forgave him, and only the beloved woman, his first and only wife, did not forgive adultery. She took her little son and disappeared from his life forever, leaving no one knows where. Unexpected freedom, which a married man dreams of at least once in his life, did not bring joy. Attempts to save the family were in vain. Loneliness and melancholy settled in his house for a long time.

Soon we got to the place. She began frantically rummaging through her bag in search of a wallet.
“You don’t need money,” he said dryly.
"Then maybe you'll get up and have some tea?" she suggested hesitantly.

The experience of danger sharpens the senses. The sex was rough and short. Then they lay in bed and she told him about herself. He knew how to listen, and when she, splashing out all over, fell silent, suddenly asked: “Why don’t you have any toys at all? Children love to play."
“Who should he play with? I’m at work all the time… Here you stay to live with us and buy toys. Enjoy playing!" She giggled in embarrassment.

Her proposal excited him. And what? Well, at least some meaning will appear in his life. She was a good woman and he liked her. Again, with the boy you can go to the bath. And he will teach him how to play football. He also has the first male rank in football. After all, he played for the men for the championship of the city. You can get a dog. Since childhood, he dreamed of a dog ...

He began to dress hastily. She did not understand him and said guiltily and reconcilingly: "Yes, I was joking! Where are you going? It's still night."
On the threshold, he hastily said: “I'm coming soon! Do you like surprises? Wait!
In the nearest department store, he bought a whole bunch of gifts. The boy has toys and all sorts of things for her too. He took everything that came to hand and attracted attention. “Then we'll figure it out!” - he kept saying, throwing another purchase into the basket, and smiled happily.
The Kamaz driver, a young boy, did not sleep for almost a day and was in a hurry to get home, so he mistook the green arrow for a permissive traffic light, especially since the red input signal did not work. He practically did not slow down when he collided with the Volga. The taxi driver was taken away in an ambulance in serious condition, and he was taken for a medical examination. Children's toys and other things from the wrecked car were stolen by cops and workers who were repairing the road that early morning.
She waited for him all day, and in the evening she called her friend and asked her to come. They got drunk and came to the conclusion that real men are no more. Died out. Like mammoths.
___________________________________________________________________________

Hello?
Hello...I gave you a ride, then at night...remember?
Aaaa... Surprises are good for you...
I'm sorry ... it happened ... Has your son recovered?
Has long been.
Can we go somewhere? I'm down here, at the entrance ... taxi, red Ford

Funny stories and jokes from the life of taxi drivers

Very good driver

Moscow, distant 70s. On TV there is a program beloved by Muscovites "Good evening, Moscow". The announcer reads: "We have received thank you letter from the family S. They ask to thank the Moscow taxi worker such and such, the crew number is such and such (the number was then attached to the lid of the glove box): "When we arrived in Moscow at the Kazansky railway station, due to the delay of the train, we had only 40 minutes Hearing about our problem, the taxi driver quickly loaded our things into the car and took us by the shortest route.On the way, he showed us the Kremlin and many other sights of the capital.The road was accompanied by interesting stories about Moscow.We managed to arrive directly to the station just a few minutes before our train, and the taxi driver helped us by grabbing our things and running them to our carriage.We ask you to thank such an attentive, kind, sympathetic employee who left us the best memories of your city... "

The fact is that the Kazansky and Yaroslavsky stations are on the same square with the Leningradsky station, which Muscovites call the Square of the Three Stations. Only from Kazansky there is also an exit to Novoryazanskaya street, where there was a regular taxi rank.

Bummer with a blonde

This story happened to my friend, by the way, a very attractive blonde. The girl spent the night with her friends and before going to work, she decided to go to her apartment to change clothes (she lived nearby). Early morning, disgusting rainy weather, she hardly (there are still few cars) catches a decent foreign car, a handsome young man is driving. The driver turned out to be very "kind" - he brought me to the very entrance, and he didn't even take the money. The girl wants to somehow thank him, and with a charming smile she says: "Can I treat you to coffee?" The man was very surprised, figured something out in his mind and joyfully issued: "Of course, I will not refuse!" At this, the girlfriend, continuing to smile sweetly, takes out several bags of instant coffee from her purse, hands it to the freaking driver and gets out of the car. She still did not understand why the carrier's face was so bored ...

Don't Forget Your Wife

A familiar taxi driver Yegor told a funny story: “On some long holidays, I drove a married couple. Both drunk as shoemakers! Well, I think they’ll give me a light now, but no, they quietly fell asleep in the back seat.

Drove them, the man says, wait, they say, the wife will sit, and I will take out the money for you. I agreed to do something. But he did bring money. I still had four calls, but people all sat down one at a time. And then I turn to the gas station ... I look: in the rear-view mirror something furry, incomprehensible, grumbles and reaches out to me. I almost screamed in fear! It turned out that the husband gave the money, but forgot to pick up his wife. Here she is riding with me. The funny thing is, when I brought her home, he did not want to open the door for her: I, he says, have a wife at home. She will howl: I'll see who your wife is there! So don't forget each other in the taxi!"

Strange Passenger

One friend once went home in a taxi drunk as hell! Night. Dark. He drives up to his native house, and then the thought crept into his head: “But why not slip away without paying? The house is big, ran into the entrance - and look for fistulas!” Well, I rushed out of the car, barely stopped. First, he flew headlong into a lamppost, then stumbled over the curb and crashed onto a bench. While getting up, he tore his pants on a nail sticking out of the bench. Three minutes trying to open the combination lock. All this time, the taxi driver looked at the client with stunned eyes from the car and did not take any active steps. "He's in shock!" - he thought. Everything turned out to be easier - when a friend did get into the entrance, he remembered that he had paid the driver when he got into the car.

Just like in the ad

I rode in a taxi. The taxi driver after another bump said:

Oh those roads!

So I was tempted to answer him:

Oh, I understand you!

How can you understand me, you don't even have a car?

Well, yesterday I had a car...

blue metallic

My friend's mother, a rather elderly woman, has never used a taxi in her life, but it turned out that she had to. So, she dials a taxi number and orders a car, the operator says that he will call back. The waiting time passes, and the operator reports that the car has already arrived, the car number is such and such, the color is blue metallic. She (the mother of a friend) gets out, sees the car, walks around it three times, but never gets in. The driver understands that this is his client, opens the door and asks: "Did you call a taxi?"

The woman asks in response: "So it's you blue Vitalik?"

The man, blushing, says, "Get in," and takes her to her destination.

How to have fun on the bus

Enter the minibus with a black eye patch. Instead of money, put a glass eye in the palm of the driver. To say that there is nothing more to pay. Introduce yourself as Billy Bones.

Sitting in the front seat, it is emphasized to carefully examine the radio, poke a couple of buttons on it, pick up the phone, dial a number, say into the phone: "Hello, boss! It's the same garbage here with the radio! Yes, we'll take action!" Get off at the next stop.

When transferring money to the driver, each time stretch out two fists to him and ask: "Guess which one?"

While in the cabin, carefully examine one of the passengers. When he notices this, call on the phone, say into the receiver: "Hello, boss! I found him!"

Play louder in the phone a pre-recorded female voice: "The caller ID program is activated." Slyly squinting, looking at the passengers.

Watch porn with loud sound on your phone. At the same time, make notes in a notebook, periodically gnawing a pen, think and look at the ceiling.

Jumping up from a place, look out of different windows. Ask the passengers what kind of city it is. Having received an answer, calm down and say: "Well, thank God! Not far left!"

Once in the front seat, get the steering wheel on the suction cup, attach it to the front panel. Having told the driver: "I love the" Japanese "with the right wheel!", start to steer. When cornering, turn the steering wheel sharply to the right, then sharply to the left. At the same time, you can periodically shout out: "Wow! Yes, you will keep her horseradish in a rut!"