The other night I was coming home from a high class function. Well, it was Stinking Pete’s Christmas party, held every year in O’Donoghue’s pub where the sawdust is authentically dipped in urine before being spread all over the floor.
Leaving to head back to Ron’s for some late ones at about 1.30am I hailed me a cab. In the cab was the driver and I suspect that he was from Nigeria. Not that this has any bearing on anything but I always enjoying speculating on where a person might be from. ‘That fella’, I might say to myself, ‘is from County Offaly, God bless him’, or ‘I have gathered from this lad’s accent that he hails from the far north of Coolock’, that kind of thing.
As I had run out of delicious Majors to smoke once I got to Ron’s I asked the cabbie to stop at one of these new fangled all-night garages, where on can purchase petrol, bread, milk, coca-cola and a wide range of other goods which seem like a good idea late at night.
After purchasing my smokes I decided it would be a nice thing if I bought something for the driver. There I was going to drink more pints of creamy rum in Ron’s and this poor fellow had to drive drunken ninnies around until dawn. Wouldn’t some small gesture of appreciation not go amiss? So I bought him a Mars bar. Honestly. I got back in the cab.
“I bought you a Mars bar” , I said.
“Thanks”, he said.
That was it. Nothing more. It was a silent taxi journey. I would have thought that the rarity of somebody buying him a Mars bar, someone who had the decency to think of him and his workload, would have sparked conversation. Not that we would have become great friends, not that I don’t have African friends before anyone accuses me of anything, but he didn’t say another word.
‘Oops’, I thought to myself, ‘perhaps I have boobed here. Maybe I have offended him in some way. My small deed, meant with late night kindness, has not gone down well. How could this be?’
I pondered the reasons why as we drove through the streets to Ron’s bar. I couldn’t really understand it. Were I a taxi driver and some bearded gentleman bought me a Mars bar I would be effusive in my praise whereas Dele, for that was his name, was impassive, emotionless and cold. It wasn’t until we got to Ron’s and I had just paid him when I realised why he had acted like he did, why he had essentially thrown my kindness back in my face.
“Goodnight, you diabetic cunt”, I said. And I’ll never buy a taxi driver anything again.
It’s a nice thought, Major. We NEED more people like you. *smiles widely*
You know it, Fred.
Consicer yourself lucky that yo didn’t start gabbing with him, especially after drinking. Who know what you might have told him. Right now you might have been sitting in Ron’s waiting for those millions of dollars to float into your bank account.
A taxi man who shut up for the whole journey?
We need more taxi men like him.
Yep, Anthony, a wonderful tale.
Indeed, it was a gift from the universe, Ethel.
Next time buy him a golly bar. Then laugh quietly to yourself when you think of what used to be on the old wrapper. Ungrateful cunt.
While on a family visit home last month I got so pissed in town, I realised I hadn’t got enough money left to get a taxi and so I had to walk all of …. Fuck I don’t know how far it is to Kilmore, but it took me over an hour to get home, it would’ve been longer if I’d had money to stop at a chipper, which I didn’t.
So are there any Irish Taxi drivers left in Dublin these days. Not that this has any bearing on anything.
Don’t encourage them twenty! They’ll start demanding snacks and conversation as part of the normal fare. There’ll be a little “Snacks” meter, beside the “extras” meter.
Where will it end? You’ll have to pay them an extra fitski to shut up! (although that might be a good optional extra, now that I think of it)
drinking brings out the worst in you twenty. hope you’re feeling better after that wanton and unprovoked act of thoughtfulness. did you actually remember to give him the mars bar?
and i was hoping the story ended with you stuffing a damien rice disk into his cd player and jamming it in with a coin ‘o the realm so it would be the only thing he ever heard every time the cab was running. you old softy. must be man’s goodwill to fellow man this time of year.
You are an insensitive fucker some times, the poor bloke probaly thought it was a beauty product and the reason he stoped talking was he probaly thought you were some kind of perverted puffter!
(shameless plug)
you should have bought him a tom waits song from itunes
http://waitsforchristmas.blogspot.com/2007/12/time-to-buy.html
Did you look in the seat next to the driver?
The driver perhaps already had a big box of chocolate-covered bonobo…that’s a big Christmas treat from Lagos. I understand next year there will Cadbury Bonobo Roses available.
Guilt is a terrible thing Twenty.
I wouldn’t know, 73.
Run out of ciggies ? Someone must have spiked your drinks at O’Donoghue’s – a narrow escape. Anything could have happened. The mind boggles.
i’ve had a few african taxi drivers in dublin and the majority of them seem to be missing manners.
I gave one fucker a tip of about 4 euro and he didn’t say thanks or goodbye, just turned around and drove off.
cunt.
Maybe he was a tad suspicious because he’d heard that ‘I’ll give you my big chocolate log if you’ll give me yours’ line once too often.
I was in O’Donoghue’s on Saturday night. I think I saw you in the jacks you beardy little prick.
Nice cock.
I was trying to think of something smart to say ..but in fairness I think your spot on about this lad …a bit of a kuntean dubh
kuntean gorm, I think.
Am I hallucinating, or did I just see an ad on channel four for a charity dedicated to helping third world donkeys have a better life? What ever happened to kids covered in flies or with cataracts? What are our own donkeys doing now? Driving SUV’s no doubt…
Are there any Gaelic speakers out there who can verify woowoo’s correction of Feynman’s post?
I have a vague memory of an Irish language school book back in the 60′s that had a story in it about a “buachaill gorm” from Africa.
I convinced myself since that I must have been confused in Primary school, as it couldn’t be right, but now I’m having doubts about my doubts.
for anyone planning on going to go to the aran islands anytime soon, beware of the gay donkeys.
They make noisy love at any hour of the day.
fear gorm = black man
fear dubh = devil
fear gorm literally means blue man.
O’Donoghue’s on Merrion Row? On Friday night no less? Well if you were puffing on your famous majors in the lane there we might have rubbed elbows.
And you might also have noticed two young Romanian tykes dressed in their Sunday best trying to lift my mate’s camera off the table, the thieving little gypsie cunts.
Thanks Morgor. It explains why my missus is always miserable. (Cailín gorm)
Yeah the good old Gaelgoir euphemists, refer to Africans as Blue Men, or Fear Gorm.. Due to their fondness for adult videos, I believe..
Is there a colour for people who watch kid’s videos too?
Ceapaim go bhfuil si bron mar ta scra aici.
my irish isn’t the best, but can anywho try and translate that…
I think she is sad because shes (…..)?
Yeah – fear gorm is black man.
Or something like …I think she is sad because she has/is (…..)?
now – you got me thinking – and thats a terrible thing to do to a fella of a monday morning.
Tá sí brón mar níl sí bán.
Where’s Go Maith when you need him?
Giving things is a bit of a dying concept.
Don’t mind that Irish lads. Get you nowhere.
Summoned like the divil himself…
i could be wrong but i think scra is cunt in Irish.
getting freudian here, she’s sad because she has a cunt.
A friend of mine told me that Irish used to have loads of choice swear words (as you’d expect) but then the catholic church “sanitized” it, and replaced all the normal hellos and goodbyes with “dia dhuit” meaning “god be with you” , which never used to be there.
Catholic church fucked up our language and kept our country a backwater for paedophile priests.
I don’t get why some Irish people stick up for the church so much, they never did anything for us when we were under english rule either.
Cunts.
hmmm where did that rant come from. . . i need more sleep.
Morgor, are you the …”scra”??
probably why everyone hated it in school, cos it was a shit version of the original language.
when you learn french it seems natural, Irish from schools sounds wrong.
i knew a guy called scra from my hometown . . .
what happens if you send an email to a [REMOVE]gmail address???
It kinda depends on what you put in the e-mail.
Did you want a more techy answer?
There’s a guy on Joe Duffy complaining about an Ice Rink in Cork.
“It was very cold and very slippery”
………fooking hell
I like my ice rinks tepid and easy to walk on, personally.
I know that guy. Met him in Spain, where he complained about it being too hot.
Is his name Goldilocks?
Where’s Porridge when you need him?
Ridin’ your Ma (imagine that in a nasty dundalk accent)
Necrophilia?
With a pile of ashes?
Be my guest!
i was thinking that when i die, i want to get blasted into space wearing a clown outfit.
but i want the whole solemn funeral thing first.
black or white all taxi drivers are cocksuckers who think they own the road pricks the lot of them
Taxi Drivers. Buncha scum. Got into a taxi at the airport lately. Lady driver. I’m probably a bit old-fashioned and sexist but didn’t expect to hear the “immigrants” line in the first few minutes. Sorely diappointed.
Sorry, forgot to say cunt. Where ARE my manners?
At least he didnt try and covert you to sum church or other..as happened to me! Maybe he thought that was your motivation, ya drunken fool!
You might have undone your act of kindness by calling him a cunt as you got out of the cab. If you’d have been nice all the way to the end he might have had second thoughts about it afterwards and felt a bit bad about not being more friendly with you.
He was probably too scared to talk to you.
What kind of a weirdo buys a taxi driver a mars bar at half one in the morning?
weird cunt