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Home > What's New > No One Likes To Be Taken for a Ride
No One Likes To Be Taken for a Ride
Posted: Monday, January 10, 2005
By James Suckling
We have all been ripped off by taxis. I have been taken in dozens of cities: New York, Mexico City, Havana, Taipei, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Paris, Bordeaux and Rome. It's hard to remember all of them. And it always hurts when you find out you've been screwed.
Just last week I was in Naples, Italy, and I decided to visit the National Museum on the morning before I caught a train back to my house in Tuscany. I took a taxi from my hotel, The Royal, near the old harbor.
I knew I was in trouble when I boarded a Fiat minivan. The dude driving the kitschy car was my new best friend. He continued to want to know my programma for the day. So I finally told him that I was going to the museum, and then returning to the hotel to fetch my luggage before continuing to the train station.
"I'll do the whole thing for 60 euros [about $80]," he said, with a big smile. He seemed as slippery as a wet fish. "I'll wait for you up to two hours and then take you to the hotel and then to the station. It's a good deal. No hassles."
I thought about it for a moment. That would be easy, but it sounded sort of expensive. "No, I want to be free to do what I want," I said.
He insisted, "It's a lot easier for you. Relax."
Finally, I talked him out of it in my error-ridden Italian. "Give me your telephone number," I said. He wrote down his number, and the name "Sasa." I told him that I would call him afterwards if I needed his services.
We arrived at the museum. ‘That will be 18 euros," he said.
That sounded like a lot to me for a 10-minute taxi journey. "What?" I said. "That seems expensive."
He pointed to the eight minutes on the meter and another figure that said "10." "There's a supplement because it's a holiday." I begrudgingly paid him the money.
After a two-hour visit, I came out of the museum and took a small Fiat Punto out in front. This time the taxi ride cost 6 euros. Apparently the other figure on the meter is the amount of time spent in the taxi. I was furious, and began ranting in Italian how taxi drivers are robbers, crooks, perverts and just about any other derogatory word I could think of in Italian.
My new taxi driver was very apologetic, even sympathetic. I got my bags from the front desk of the hotel and proceeded to tell the desk manager that their taxi drivers are rip-off artists. "You find them in all countries," the woman said, shrugging her shoulders.
"I would like to send him to Baghdad," I said to her. She looked slightly surprised at my comment.
About 15 minutes later, I arrived at the central train station in Naples and paid the taxi driver 15 euros, which included a 1 Euro tip. He smiled rather sheepishly as he took my money.
Just then I had a thought. What if I called Sasa, the robber taxi driver and asked him to pick me up at the museum? I might get some consolation out of being literally taken for a ride.
Yes.
I didn't want to use my mobile phone because he would have the number registered on his. So I bought a 3 Euros phone card at the newsagent and used a pay phone.
I dialed the number and it rang. "Si?" said the voice on the phone.
"Is this Sasa?" I asked.
"Yes. Who is this?" he said.
"This is that foreigner who you left at the museum. Could you come and pick me up?" I said.
"Of course," he answered with incredible enthusiasm. He must have been salivating at the mouth. Euro signs were rolling through his eyeballs. Another foreigner to slaughter.
"Please hurry," I said. "I will be out in five minutes."
"I am coming immediately," he said. "Be at the same place where I left you before."
With that, I hung up the pay phone, walked to platform 13 and boarded my train for Tuscany. I am not sure Sasa will understand what I did, but if he does, he might think twice when he tries to take another foreigner for a ride. Also in Cigar News:
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