Taxi Driver And Me

The general and unwritten rule about how much to tip when one gets off a taxi is, around here in Spain, to round upwards what the taximeter says. Subjected to the theory of relativity I would prefer. As the behaviour or the attitude of the taxi driver influences directly whether I feel I have been given the due service and courtesy or not. His silence for instance.

I had more than once been in taxis where the drivers, for whatever obscure reason way beyond my understanding, decided to tell me all about his personal life, his job, home, wife, children, what he did the week before, or what his cousin was going to do in the future. With absolutely no encouragement on my part, not even a non-committal 'Yes?' 'really?' 'Is that so?' 'Imagine that .... !'

Then there were the boasters, telling you how successful or popular they were with the ladies, and often gives you his own analysis of what type of women like what type of men, and he himself seems to attract all types! Hahaha. One or two had then even added all the juicy details.

Worse were the ones that proclaimed: "Oh, you must be a movie star, a model, and believe me I can tell you are!" type of lines they think women might fall for and thus leave them a big tip, or even a likely date or something. What do they say to single male customers I wonder?

Once I took a taxi for a very short distance only to avoid walking alone late at night. The driver was one of the quiet ones and I silently congratulated myself for my good fortune. Arriving at my house, the meter marked €8.50. I gave him a €20 note and he gave me back €1,50. I sat waiting but noted that he was also just sitting there, not searching in his little metal box near him where he presumably kept his fares, to fetch me the correct change. So I said: "You owe me 10" to which he retorted "You gave me 10".

Now I was at once on fire. I would definitely not take that brazen robbery. I used all my nails and teeth representing those of all the other women in the world, to fight this battle, which I considered insulting more than cheating. I told him that unless he gave me the missing €10 IMMEDIATELY I would scream "rape", and sat there with the door wide open with one leg dangling outside of it, so that he could not suddenly decide to drive off. He gave me the 10 cursing me and all my kind. I banged the door shut with all the strength I could muster, and turned around adding a mighty kick to the door.

I suspected he might have to at least check about the possible damage to the door or the hinge. I quite entertain that thought.

Tags:taxiride

• Current Mood: Angry

Adam Neate's London Street Art

A painting abandoned in a London street could sell in eBay for € 1,200. Sounds crazy but it did happen. The British capital city has turned into a street gallery in the middle of the night on the 15 November, back in 2008.

Adam Neate, then 31 year old British artist, together with his 10 assistants, left in the open 1,000 of his paintings, valued to be over €1 million, just scattered here and there in the London streets. They were mostly portraits of men painted over carton boxes, numbered and signed by the artist. Exceptional and valuable work that didn't get to see the light of day, as those fortunate people who found them in the night immediately posted them on eBay for the initial prices between €120 and €1,200.

"I believe this action of mine helps people to look at art a different way. I have been leaving my work in the streets for anybody to find for the last 7 years, without previous notice where and when to find them. But not this last time. In this occasion I had announced on the Internet. People already know what type of work I usually leave out, so the ones who like them would run around the city looking for them. If not, they stay home and watch the telly. " said Neate.

"I don't mind at all they sell them and put whatever price they think appropriate. My intention is to detach art from the commercial market. I do not paint for money, but for love. I just enjoy painting."

"In the beginning I used to paint for my friends, which they would put up in their houses, then their friends saw them and asked me for more. But I painted so many my house became to look like a warehouse. My room-mates asked me to get rid of some, so I left them by the door of a charity organisation, but they threw them into the street dustbin. I thought that's no good at all, so I picked them all up again and just left them in the streets. Within a couple of hours they had all vanished."

In 2001, Neate left his native home town Ipswich and move to London, "More streets, more people, and more carton boxes!" He continued to paint and left his work all over the streets in the big city. He said he was inspired by Picasso who had done more than 20,000 paintings, so he plans to paint 1,000 each year as gifts for the streets.

The owners of Elms Lesters Gallery saw his work and asked for his paintings for an exhibition. He did. The first one sold in Sotheby's fetched the handsome sum of €96,000. The gallery was so convinced by his street art ideal that they asked him to put out 1,000 paintings all at once for a cheque of €12,000.

So between the night of the 14th Nov to the morning of 15th Nov, 1,000 of his recent paintings were distributed by himself and his 10 assistants in 33 different areas of London. He enjoys his work so much he says he often dances when he paints. While he is busy doing both, in his home with his wife and child, his paintings are being snatched up in eBay, apparently with the prices going up by the hour.

One of his many self-portraits and other work: ~

Tags:London,StreetArt

• Current Mood: Artistic

Only In America ... FBI And Pizza

True Story - Allegedly

FBI agents conducted a raid of a psychiatric hospital in San Diego that was under investigation for medical insurance fraud. After hours of reviewing thousands of medical records, the dozens of agents had worked up quite an appetite. The agent in charge of the investigation called a nearby pizza parlour with delivery service to order a quick dinner for his colleagues.

The following telephone conversation took place and was recorded by the FBI because they were taping all conversations at the hospital:

Agent: Hello. I'd like to order 19 large pizzas and 67 cans of soda.

Pizza Man: And where would you like them delivered?

Agent: We're over at the psychiatric hospital.

Pizza Man: The psychiatric hospital?

Agent: That's right. I'm an FBI agent.

Pizza Man: You're an FBI agent?

Agent: That's correct. Just about everybody here is.

Pizza Man: And you're at the psychiatric hospital?

Agent: That's correct. And make sure you don't go through the front doors. We have them locked. You'll have to go around to the back service entrance to deliver the pizzas.

Pizza Man: And you say you're all FBI agents?

Agent: That's right. How soon can you have them here?

Pizza Man: Everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI agent?

Agent: That's right. We've been here all day and we're starving.

Pizza Man: How are you going to pay for all of this?

Agent: I have my chequebook right here.

Pizza Man: And you're all FBI agents?

Agent: That's right. Everyone here is an FBI agent. Can you remember to bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear? We have the front doors locked.

Pizza Man: I don't think so! *Click*

Tags:FBI,Pizza

• Current Mood: Amused