Conversations with a taxi

I hopped in a taxi.

I sat in the front, as I normally do when I travel by taxi. I can respond more quickly if I think the driver is about to mow someone down.

'Stop!' I will say.

I might even grab the driver by the knee to drive home my point - regardless of how good he looks.

The other night when I sat in front, my taxi driver wasted no time in putting his hand on my knee instead, where it rested for most of the journey.

'You like lady?' he asked.

He pulled out a brochure advertising the services of a massage parlour. Pretty girls were on the front.

'They have everything - girls, boys, ladyboys...'

He looked at me.

'You like girls...?' he sounded doubtful.

'I have someone already,' I said.

The hand stayed in place on my knee.

I returned the brochure. The driver switched to talking about his sex life instead.

'I am single,' he said. 'Women are hard work.'

He was once married to a woman, he said, with whom he had one child. He made her pregnant, and her family forced him to marry her. He still supports both mother and child, even though they now live apart.

His cellphone rang, and he answered. He spoke in the kind of silly, cutesy talk which some men reserve for the women in their lives.

'Who was that?' I asked when the call finished. 'That sounded like a girlfriend. I thought you were single.'

'I am. That was just my kik [close friend on the side].'

'If you are not married, then how can you call her a 'kik' - there's no one else,' I said, confused.

'True, but she doesn't qualify as a girlfriend. She sells her body for sex. I pay her, too,' he said. 'We've known each other for years.'

The next night, I hopped in another taxi.

It was an old one. The driver was old, too.

My Thai partner, who was not present, is good at telling from the street the old-model taxis from the new ones.

The new ones are wide inside, with plenty of legroom and good seating. The old ones have tiny seats which are hard to move.

I can't tell which one I have flagged down until I open the door; by then it's too late.

I hopped in the front.

Most Thais get in the back, even when they are in a group.

Drivers keep the front passenger seat pulled to the front as far as possible, so passengers in the back have more leg room.

When I get in, I have to push the seat back again.

If I get in and cannot move the seat back easily, I get cross, and swear.

The driver seldom realises I am swearing. I am just talking farang-speak.

After I hopped in, I found I could not move the seat back, because it was broken.

'No way,' I said.

I hopped straight out again, and slammed the door shut.

The taxi drove away empty.

I refuse to ride in a taxi with a broken seat. Cars in that state should not be allowed on the road.