Taxi? Car! Bike?

taxi, israel, egged taavura, taxi drivers, israeli taxis, israel

I went with Shlomo today to go pay two bills – one at the post office, and one at the bank machine.  Since I had to pick something up from Yitzchak, I chose to go the the post office near the shuk.  From there, it is about a minute’s walk to the bus stop (not the one by the shuk, the one right after).  I figured that at 10:30 in the morning, the bus would be empty enough to justify getting on a stop after the shuk, and I would still be able to get a seat.  Thank G-d, I was right.

While we were waiting for the bus, Shlomo started getting antsy (read: tired and bored).  I asked him a little while prior if he wanted to go to sleep, and he said, “Yeah?”  I gave him his doll, but he hadn’t gone to sleep yet.  So, to keep him from getting upset, I asked him where there were cars.  (Answer: Parked on the other side of the street, and driving on both sides.)  He immediately perked up and started looking at the cars.  “Car?  Car?”  And I started pointing to the cars that were parked opposite us.

In Israel the way you hail a taxi is by sticking your arm out, and pointing your finger.  That’s right – hold your arm out, over the curb, and point your index finger.  We were pointing at cars, and one of the cars, going the opposite direction, was a taxi.

“Car!” I said.  “Oops, that’s not just a car, it’s a taxi.”  At the same moment, I saw a taxi going in our direction.  I took down my finger, and shook my head (and wagged my finger from side to side), but it was too late.  He slowed and stopped, and I shook my head again, apologizing.

“What are you doing?” he asks in Hebrew.  He was kind of annoyed, and justifiably so, because he thought he had a customer, who then recanted.

“I was pointing, ‘car, car, car, car, car,'” I said.

The taxi driver grinned.  Suddenly, it was no big deal.  “Also, ‘bike, bike, bike,'” he said.  “Have a good day!”

We were standing right outside a bike shop.  Good idea, taxi driver.

“Sorry about that!” I called after him.  I don’t know if he heard me, but I’m not sure it matters.

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