Thursday, February 19, 2009

Surviving Amman Taxis

*** NOW, the Jordanians are some of the nicest, sweetest, people I've come across. That being said, I do get into trouble in every 1 out of 4 taxis. This is the story of my worst trip so far***

I still can't believe it. I think that someone connected in the taxi industry has put a contract out on me. I must not have tipped a cabbie enough and the weighted scales of Karma began their oppressive tilt towards making my life a living hell.

The best way to pre-empt this story is to ask you to click here and play this song to the 45-60th second. Please do not read further if you are uncomfortable with graphic descriptions of adult material.

The cab was horribly run down with loud arabic music blasting through the tinny speakers hanging halfway out of their door compartments. The driver dressed in clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks.

If there is any lesson to be learned for those travelling in a taxi... do NOT ride in the front alone with a taxi driver. In this case, I had to put all of my bags in the back so I was forced to jump in the front.

Imagine if you will a big toothy grin from an unshaven dodgy taxi driver. Now remove the four front teeth. It looked kinda like a run-down hillbilly toothless Borat.

Driver: Where you from? Philipino?

Me: KO-RE-A!

Driver: ah Korea........SMALL! (He flipped out his pinky finger, which I guess is an arabic sign for a small member)

Me: Oh my god. You. Drive!

Driver: SMALL he shouted again. ARABIC MEN --- BIG (He then did an Obama style air fist jab with his right fist and grabbed his right elbow with his left hand to mimic his johnson)!

Me muttering: Why me?

Driver: You like sex? ME BIG (He then started to unzip his pants while driving!).


I then got seriously pissed off at the guy and told him to drive and be quiet. He kept saying things like Pepsi Can and Centimeters and I would have jumped out of the car but we were only a few blocks away. He kept grabbing my leg for a feelskie but I kept beating him off with my backpack on my lap.

As we pulled into the driveway of our apartment building I opened the door and rested my backpack on the ground and prepared to step out. BAD Decision. This was my only protection and it gave him the window of opportunity to grab my JUNK.

Me: AHHHHHHHHH (Scream in terror)! as he squeezed his hand on my short sword.

I grabbed my things and ran out to the safety of the pavement. In a last ditch attempt to try to get some, he put out his desperate sales pitch.

Driver: Me sucky, you f**ky! Me BIG (followed by another Obama style air fist jab and elbow grab)!

Obviously this was a ploy to tempt me so that he does all the heavy lifting. Not going to work tonight!

Now I have taken the experience on with very little trauma, but every time I see a yellow cab pass by I have this raw image of my tormentor burning through my memory.

Below here is an artists rendition of my taxi driver, courtesy of my colleague Fletch. Now you too, shall have the same imagery forced upon you every time you ride a cab.


  1. I'm not sure I should say LOL or OUCH, so I guess I'm just gonna say both, LOL and OUCH. There's always ebay for a stun gun or mace.

  2. It had to be the man-purse, bro...:-D

  3. That was entertaining - and will make me think twice before getting a taxi if ever in Jordan !