Those are the words of a Beirut taxi driver describing Americans - and I would be hard-pressed to come up with a better description (at least of me). We were driving to a museum and carrying on a wide-ranging and free-wheeling discussion of Lebanon, the US and life in general. It's one of the international conversations that I'll always cherish (and I've been fortunate to have many of them - unlike a lot of Americans I actually talk to people overseas). Of course, barely two hours later Lebanon was forced to witness the other side of that rule when I blew up at another taxi driver for blatantly cheating me. In the end, however, it was my own fault because I broke two cardinal rules of international taxi travel: 1) I didn't get him to agree up a fixed price before we took off (which is really important in some parts of the world where they don't use the meter - and I just had a feeling that it was a dodgy taxi from the beginning so I should have trusted my instincts), and 2) I only had large bills on me so I had to depend upon him for change. Still, I did get my heart rate up, which I think is supposed to be good for you.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
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