things that make you go "hmmm..."

so last week, i was flying back to new brunswick for a $700 coffee with one of my clients. we have to make a stop in hamilton, ontario for some reason (i didn't approve, but they didn't seem to care. apparently it was on the schedule). as the people were boarding my plane (that's right, it's mine - i own it) one guy catches my attention. he's not exactly what i'd consider your typical flyer. he's got a tattoo covering half of his face and running down his neck. a leather jacket with studs and pointy dealies on it. shaved head on the side and long hair on the top dyed blue. you know the type... anti-establishment, fuck all-y'all, look at me because i'm different and won't be pressured into being a normal and productive member of society type... except for one thing. this tough-guy, don't give a shit about anyone, be afraid of me because you don't know what i'm capable of, making a big statement about individuality because aside from this i don't really have any - punk was carrying a frilly, brown pillow to rest his delicate head on during the 1.5 hour flight.

you know you're popular when...

...cabbies almost get into a fist fight over you.

picture it. i'm outside of the delta ottawa in... umm... ottawa and getting ready to head to a meeting. it's taxi time! yay! i love taxis! (i may be slightly exaggerating here. meaning, i tolerate taxis due to the fact that i detest public transit.)

anyway, there's a group of four or five asian people ahead of me and they start to walk toward a taxi parked on the street. but at the delta ottawa, there's a taxi stand so one of the taxis there blew his horn and started moving toward the asian crowd. so me and my boss waved for the next taxi in the stand and he made his way over, got out and was loading our bags in the trunk when taxi driver #1 comes over and starts yelling. here's how it went:

taxi driver #1 (thick mid-eastern accent): what are you doing? these are my people.

taxi driver #2 (thick unrecognizable accent): no. they're mine. those ones are yours (pointing at the asian group).

taxi driver #1: no. they don't want taxi. these are mine. (starts grabbing our bags out of the trunk)

my boss: oh... hey, umm... hold on a second.

taxi driver #2: (grabbing the bags away from taxi driver #1) what are you doing? don't be idiot. those are your people. these are mine!

taxi driver #1: don't you listen? they don't want taxi. what's wrong with you? you're being stupid face. why you aren't being respectful. (now in the face of the taxi driver #2)

taxi driver #2: i should slap you on your face, you are fucker-man. these are my people. you wait for the next one.

taxi driver #1: i was first. what's wrong with you? you should be respectful. we drive taxi. i was first. these are mine.

taxi driver #2: no. why don't you go sit down. you're idiot. you're just big dummy. i should punch you. (slams trunk)

now, this argument continues at the driver's door for another 30 or 40 seconds. everyone outside of the hotel is watching us. finally, we get in the cab and taxi driver #1 walks by and says:

"alright. go with your stupid driver."

and my boss replies: "ok. you have yourself a good day too."

we close our doors, taxi driver #2 gets in and i say "boy... you're going to be really disappointed when you find out our fare's only going to be worth about five bucks. take us to slater street my good man."