Taxi Driver

You have an appointment and elect not to drive. Rather than ask a 'friend' or relative to take you, you opt for that other brand of public/private transportation and decide to cab it. You telephone the dispatch and give your coordinates never dreaming from your conversation with the lady at Yellow Cab that your driver will be challenged insofar as language commonality goes. You a firm believer in the melting pot that is our city, have never given a single thought to how someone's emmigration to our country could have any direct effect on you..until you step into that cab. It immediately becomes apparent that the driver has an extremely minimal knowledge of English and he rightfully assumes that your knowledge of his language-might well have been Swahili- is nil as he proceeds to carry on a conversation on Bluetooth with a 'friend' never fearing even for a nanno second that you will understand. It has been an age since your last taxi ride when the driver carried on a cordial conversation with his fare; you find yourself to be a captive rider, an unwitting participant in a foreign language extravaganza. Your driver does not exchange one single word with you and on automatic pilot, you tip upon reaching your destination. You remember your manners and exit the yellow car wondering which language you might consider learning before your next cab venture.