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Women Drivers Don't Go Eeeeeee!
Saturday, December 12, 2009 When it is -47°C/-52.7°F with the wind chill, one does not take one's life in one's hands and attempt to walk to work, so I took a taxi. It sucks up about an hour of my shoe-selling wages, but it's worth it, because I value the integrity of all twenty of my fingers and toes.
Normally, I look forward to a ride in a taxi, because I really like cab drivers. The one I ended up with this afternoon? Not so much.
Cab Driver: [pulled away from my apartment building and around a woman trying to park her car] Know why she was having trouble parking?
Me: No.
CD: She saw me driving near her back end and it scared her. Women drivers. [snorted]
Me: What?
CD: Women drivers. You know. They are scared of everything. [pulled up next to a bus to stop at a red light] Some of 'em won't even drive up next to a bus or a semi. They see how big it is and go eeeeeee!. [waved hands next to head in order to imitate the stereotype of a frightened girl]
Me: Really.
CD: I don't know how women deal with it if they get into a scary situation. They're too busy being scared to react properly. That young woman who got into that accident a couple of days ago? She shouldn't have been on the road.
I kind of really wanted to reach over the back of his seat and yank out a fistful of his hair.
Me: Statistically speaking, women get into fewer accidents than men.
CD: That may be, but they probably die in the ones they do get into.
At first, I couldn't figure out why the cab driver thought I would want to hear his assertion that some people are innately bad at something because they have vaginas, but then it hit me. My hair is really short, and the cab driver hadn't turned around to look at me closely when I got in the cab. He thought he was talking to another man.
Me: I'm a woman you know.
CD: Huh?
Me: I'm a woman, and I don't go eeeeeee! when I drive by a city bus.
CD: I'm sure you're a good driver. [cleared his throat] I meant young drivers. Young drivers don't have much experience.
Me: Uh huh.
CD: Are you going Christmas shopping?
And then I crammed the garter he had hanging from the rear view mirror down his throat, and he said eeeeeee!.
The End.
Reader Comments (15)
eeeeeeee - more like get out of the f%$#in way you f%$#in moron - did you get you license out of a cracker jack box!!!
stupid cab driver.
Cab drivers always say crazy shit. This is a problem because when most reporters go to foreign countries they only talk to the cab drivers and then they report their crazy shit as the mood of the country.
I am a horrible driver. But not because I'm a woman.
This totally made me think of the Stephen Kind audio book Blood and Smoke. Tell me that was intentional and I'll be blown away.
I wonder if it's because taxi drivers have to make small talk all goddamn day that they end up with these warped opinions, or did they start out that way?
eeeee!
The end of this post really made me laugh, ha!
I'm pretty sure that cabbie didn't get a tip.
Open mouth, insert foot.
Vaginas totally prevent us from being able to drive. And lead countries. And vote. But that's okay - they help us to vacuum really well.
Wow. That dude needs a punch in the head. Moron.
I drive with my vagina almost exclusively.
Zoeyjane, alas, I did not model this after Stephen King's piece. Sorry to disappoint.
Palinode is writing your endings again, isn't he.
I was in a Big Name Store the other day, buying a single string of little bitty lights to make my co-worker smile when she got to the office. The woman in front of me in line (who may have been in her 50s) was purchasing a breadmaker.
The store lady started ringing through the breadmaker and then she looked around. "You'll not carry this YOURSELF will you?" she said, her eyes boggling out of her painted-on face. *I* looked around. I looked back at the breadmaker. It was a wee thing compared to the breadmaker I had ten years ago. "Don't you have a MAN to carry it for you? We could call up a MAN from the loading docks..."
I ground my teeth into angry little stumps (I was wearing a big, thick army surplus coat and a wolf hat with ears, so maybe she thought I was a man; I don't know) and began to mutter under my breath. Yes, I muttered. I've become a mutterer.
When it was my turn (the woman in front of me did not, in fact, need a MAN to carry the thing for her. As I expected), I plunked my four inch package of ExMass lights on the counter and glared at the old bat. "I may need a MAN to carry this for me," I told her. "It's terribly heavy. Do you have MEN who do such things? Perhaps in shipping?"
She spluttered for a moment then realised I was being an arsehole. Seriously. Only a MAN could have carried that thing. You know, owing to the fact that he'd have lifted it with his penis.
Staying with gender stereotypes - J and I bought a bookshelf from a discount department store. It wouldn't fit in the car, so we had it delivered. It came flat-packed, but still weighed about 45 kgs (100 lbs). When the delivery guy came to the house, he asked if there was a guy around. I assured him there was not. He peered around me, asking again if I was sure that there was no guy around. I should have told him that my husband was out buying groceries (he was) but I didn't. He then sai that if there had been a guy there, he would have asked for help getting the bookcase up the hill. That's right, we live halfway up a cliff. There are about 100 stairs that lead to our house.
Now, if the guy had asked for my help, I would have helped him. But as he was so insistant that he needed a MAN's help, I didn't offer my assistance. And made he haul the thing up 100 steps all on his own.
love the ending!
lol Awesome.
Yeah, I know it's sexist but, see, the point of being a woman is to USE those stupid men that buy into stereotypes. Yes, I can change my own tire (hell, i used to rebuild motors for a living), but I'm not going to. I'll stand on the side of the road for less than 5 minutes, looking like I'm about to cry, and a BIG MAN will pull over and do it for me!
My favorite thing: I teach handgun classes. I've been shooting since before I could ride a bike. But, invariably, when I go to the range, before I even pull my guns out, some MAN will come over and start giving me "shooting advice," which is, 99% of the time, WRONG. I just listen, nod, and pretend to take it all in, thanking them very melodramatically. Then when I shoot and amaze them, all the range officers start cracking up at the Stupid Bubba's surprise, and then I make some remark like, "Gee, mister...thanks for the pointers," or something like, "Wow. I guess your advice was kinda crap. If I'd have followed it, I'd be shooting as bad as you are!"
*snorts* I love being a self-sufficient bitch...
Might I also add that I've ridden in a cab only once in my life. After reading this account, I'm glad I don't have to do it more often. Good for you for holding back as long as you did!