Weird

The driving in this fucking country has to be seen to be believed. This morning in the way to work I saw a dude riding a motorcycle and texting someone on his phone at the same time. Naturally, he was playing slalom with the white lines at the same time.

Here's an actual poll conducted on a website here in malaysia:

Ever get the feeling you're being followed?

Weird man. I got the distinct impression therewas someone else in the taxi with me this a.m. Door wouldn't close properly, for starters. And then I kinda felt a bit cramped, as though someone was jostling me for space.

Maybe I'm imagining things.

Same traffic jam, same taxi driver

Obviously this is more evidence of the fundamental interconnectedness of all things.

Here's what I'm thinking: It is possible that taxi drivers are responsible for the flow, or lack thereof, of traffic in KL. All living things give off energy; there is enough evidence of this thinking, scientific and 'other.' It follows, therefore, that the mindset of a given cabby can affect conditions on the road.

Taxi drivers manifest their own road reality.

We might have bad luck drivers - those who attract congestion; and good luck drivers - those for whom the roads are always clear, the lights always green and the filter lanes always fast moving.

If we consider that taxis must make up a significant portion of the traffic universe, it stands to reason that the taxi collective has the power to alter situation.

NOTE TO SELF: Organise group meditation for the taxi industry.

Maybe the taxi number has something to do with this phenomenon. The whole numerology ting thing is big here in the East. My building for example, does not have a 4th floor (it's marked as 3A), 8 appears to be a very lucky number for Chinese people, and we all know that westeners view the number 13 with suspicion.

More on this...

8:30 a.m.

Woke up early this morning for some reason. Getting a taxi was a mission; I guess becasue roads are busier at 8:15 a.m. than at my usual time of 9:30 a.m.

The dude had the aircon so cold that when I climbed out of the car my sunglasses misted up before I had even swung the door fully open.

Order has been restored

Well, it's been a while since I wrote anything here; which is because there have not been any really newsworthy rides in taxis. Ironic - the moment I begin the hing, the taxi drivers start to ebhave normally. Go figure.

I was just thinking to myself that it was about time I saw Fuzzy again. Lo and behold, who should pick me up this a.m. I feel like balance has been restored to the universe.

The Fuzzmeister doesn't say much. Seems to have a problem listening, too, since I always have to ask him to go where I want about 3 times before he bothers to acknowledge either by way of a grunt or actually proceeding thence.

Fuzzy

Obviously there is a finite number of taxi drivers, and one begins to recognise some of them. So as I sat in the back of the taxi this morning I decided that I should give them nicknames. The guy who picked me up this morning shall henceforth be known as Fuzzy (because he has sort of wirey, fuzzy hair).

Anyway, fuzzy's taxi is fucked. The suspension is is so shot that it feels like riding a fried egg to work. Also, fuzzy likes to fling the vehicle around a little bit, and is not scared of the brakes.

Undoubtedly the highlight of this morning's journey, however, was when he pulled out his nail clippers and proceeded to clip his fingers.

FastSlowFastSlowFastSlowFastSlow

There's a general trend, it seems, among taxi drivers. You know exactly what I'm talking about - it's the foot on the accelerator, off the accelerator, on, off, on, off mode of speed control. Apart from minor whiplash, it also causes a not undue amount of motion sickness.

Intro

Actually catching a taxi in KL is quite an experience. I have approximately 10 taxi company numbers stored in my phone, all of which I have called. The usual drill involves phoning the cab co, hanging on for 3-4 minutes and then being told "sorry no cab."

On a good day, the disembodied voice on the other end of the blower will spout a number in an uncomprehensible manner - the number supposedly being that of the cab (the number seldom actually matches).

I have personally waited as long as 2 hours to get a cab - but that was really an exceptional day. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I started phoning at about 2pm. I think succcess finally came around 4:30pm (so, actually, the wait was longer than 2 hours).

On Hari Raya, I simply could not get a cab. Full stop. There just weren't any.

Anyway, the trip this morning was one of the less strange ones I have taken (those who know me well could construe this staement in more than one way). Apart from the driver not actually having the slightest clue where he was - apparently it was the first time he had been to plaza Damas, or even Sri hartamas, for that matter.

There was, however, one quirk with this dude: He insisted on keeping his following distance to a sensible length. Now anyone who has been on the roads in KL will tell you that this is not the norm. In fact I found myself becoming quite frustrated.