Something funny happened that I thought I’d share with you. I was in a hurry the other day and took a taxi for a very short distance, only two or three metro stops. The driver was a flirt, telling me I was beautiful and asking where I was from. Then he went on about how much his countrymen (I won’t identify his blameless country) loved Americans. “I tell you, Americans are the most loved nationality!” Yeah, right.
I got ready my change to pay the 7,60 euro fare.
“C’est combien?” I said.
“Ten euros,” he said.
I noticed then that his taximètre was dark– you couldn’t see the fare, which is supposed to be visible at all times.
“Because you are adorable, I switched it off so it would be less expensive,” he said.
“Please give me a receipt,” I said.
“Are you sure you need one? I don’t know if I have any left,” he said, starting to look uncomfortable. It’s illegal not to give a receipt to any passenger who asks.
“Yes,” I said firmly. I ostentatiously checked out his taxi number on the left rear window.
He reluctantly fished around, pretending to have difficulty finding it, and finally filled out a receipt and handed it to me. It was for 7 euros 60. No more adorables for me!