#crazy cab

I had a (sorta) bad cab ride today.

I rode this cab in Galleria just an hour ago. The driver asked me where my destination was. I said, "Shaw lang" but still he took a right turn and went to EDSA. The whole time I was in the cab (which was just around 2-3 minutes) he was staring at me through the rear mirror and when we stopped because of EDSA traffic, he turned on his seat and literally just stared at me with his kind of red eyes. I then took some money from my wallet, gave it to him and took off. I went back to Galleria, tried to calm myself, and then rode another cab. Good thing I'm still in one piece. Bad thing I was not able to get the plate number or the cab name. Napa-shop tuloy ako ng shoes, haha. Here's to another reason why my parents should buy me a car.

On other things, I had a pretty awesome day at work. I was kind of productive with my research, I met my co-interns and bonded with them during lunch, I attended my first work-related meeting, and my supervisor complimented my work. Plus, I love what I wore today.

To start off with, I had the most RIDICULOUS cab experience ever when visiting psychiatric hospitals last Wednesday. After the first meeting, the members of the board put me in a cab on my own to go to the next hospital (they were going to a different one). Sounds about normal. I had the address all written down, so there was no chance anything could mess up. Wrong.

First, my cab driver was not convinced that he was called for me. Even though no one else was there. Then, as soon as he learned I was from America, he started speaking in a Californian surfer boy accent. He then proceeded to interrogate me, which I thought was innocent enough (cab drivers want to have conversation, cool). But then he started asking if I was single, if I knew that most relationships now are found on World of Warcraft, that he doesn't play World of Warcraft himself but he has a big tv, on and on. I humored the guy. But then it got even weirder. If possible.

He asked if I knew that there was an International BMX tournament going on in Denmark (fyi: there is always some sort of tournament/festival/competition going on in Denmark. Always). He then explained that I looked like someone who would enjoy BMX and tried to convince me to let him drive me to the tournament instead of the hospital where I was supposed to go. That the STATE DEPARTMENT wanted me to go to. It took a lot of convincing to tell him no.

By this point we had been on the road for a while. I had no idea that this hospital was so far outside of Copenhagen. All I saw around me were fields and buildings here and there. I was convinced this guy was going to murder me and leave me in a ditch. I swear. yaaaaaay paranoid Natalie.

Salvation arrived in the form of the hospital sign. The cab driver then asked me how long my meetings should be. I told him I wasn't sure, maybe about 30 minutes each? He then insisted that he wait for me so that he could drive me back. I told him that he didn't need to - I wasn't sure how many meetings I had. He insisted, and then he offered to give me his number so that I could call him back so he could pick me up. Again, I told him it wasn't necessary. Luckily, Eva was waiting for me, so I practically flew out of the cab after I paid the guy.

He makes the top of the list of memorable danish cab experiences. Other honorable mentions include: the 3rd generation Russian Dane who drove me back from the airport when I went to Bornholm. Part of the conversation was in Russian and we discussed life in St. Petersburg and American tourists. He was a pretty jolly guy with an infectious laugh.

Another interesting cab driver was a man from Turkey who told me his entire life story and what each of his five kids are doing with their lives (the eldest girl is working on photography in New York while the eldest son had promise as a competitive skateborder, but his mind became too wrapped up around girls :P).