As I mentioned previously, my friend came to meet me at the airport. She surprised me, actually. Our plan was for me to find my way to our hotel, Nakula Familiar Inn, on my own. I had the address and simple instructions, and was mentally gearing up for navigating the balmy night, still wrapped in a sweater and long-johns, when I saw her.
I was happy to see her, but even happier when she told me that she had a cab lined up. How wonderful, I thought, to have my arrival go so smoothly. I'll be able to kick back.
In hindsight, I can't help but chuckle at my optimism.
It turned out that the driver who brought my friend to the airport had was waiting to bring her back. She tried to pay him and he refused, insisting she find me and return.
Which is fine, except I took forever to come to the gate.
Which is fine, except she wasn't actually in the cab waiting, but had to walk a ways.
Which is fine, except the airport is swarming with identical cabs.
Which is fine, except the driver gave her his cab number, but not any way to actually contact him.
Which is fine, except that when we finally managed to locate the cab, he wasn't in it.
I think this is the point where I totally lost my patience with the situation. I mean, how were we supposed to find this guy? He parked in the middle of the parking lot (we had to hunt him down my car number), and then was no where to be found. No one knew him, we couldn't call him, and he didn't show up.
Did I mention that my friend was sick?
Did I mention that I was wearing long-johns in the middle of summer?
"Screw 'im" I thought.
My friend is a much kinder person than I am.
"I have to find him!" she said, "I have to pay him, at least."
I was hot, sleepy, and achy from the plane. And worse, I was beginning to stink from sweating into my winter clothes. I was all for leaving the man to face the fruits of his own stupidity.
We ended up leaving the fare for the ride to the airport wrapped in a receipt, tucked behind the windshield. It was a conciliatory gesture on our part. I couldn't quite bring myself to believe the money would be there long enough for the driver to actually find it.
We took another taxi and headed to our hotel.
The next morning around 10:30, the driver showed up at the hotel to track down his fare. He waited for us, he explained. He had walked around the airport trying to find us. He needed to paid, he said, because the money belonged to his boss, not him.
I sympathized, truly, but I couldn't help feeling that the man was a bit dim. I mean, who walks away from a fare? Not only the fare, but the actual car? And who waits till 10 track down their money - oh wait - money they owe to their boss? We could have been long gone by 10 in the morning. Several guests checked a few hours before he showed up.
Well, we paid him. Guess I shouldn't say we - my friend forked over the cash for the ordeal. There comes a point when its better to shove money at a problem to make it just be over. The driver had her write out a note that said she paid him, took the money, thanked us, and told us to call him if we needed to go anywhere else.
As you can probably guess, we never placed the call.
For more posts on Denpasar, click here.
I was happy to see her, but even happier when she told me that she had a cab lined up. How wonderful, I thought, to have my arrival go so smoothly. I'll be able to kick back.
In hindsight, I can't help but chuckle at my optimism.
It turned out that the driver who brought my friend to the airport had was waiting to bring her back. She tried to pay him and he refused, insisting she find me and return.
Which is fine, except I took forever to come to the gate.
Which is fine, except she wasn't actually in the cab waiting, but had to walk a ways.
Which is fine, except the airport is swarming with identical cabs.
Which is fine, except the driver gave her his cab number, but not any way to actually contact him.
Which is fine, except that when we finally managed to locate the cab, he wasn't in it.
I think this is the point where I totally lost my patience with the situation. I mean, how were we supposed to find this guy? He parked in the middle of the parking lot (we had to hunt him down my car number), and then was no where to be found. No one knew him, we couldn't call him, and he didn't show up.
Did I mention that my friend was sick?
Did I mention that I was wearing long-johns in the middle of summer?
"Screw 'im" I thought.
My friend is a much kinder person than I am.
"I have to find him!" she said, "I have to pay him, at least."
I was hot, sleepy, and achy from the plane. And worse, I was beginning to stink from sweating into my winter clothes. I was all for leaving the man to face the fruits of his own stupidity.
We ended up leaving the fare for the ride to the airport wrapped in a receipt, tucked behind the windshield. It was a conciliatory gesture on our part. I couldn't quite bring myself to believe the money would be there long enough for the driver to actually find it.
We took another taxi and headed to our hotel.
The next morning around 10:30, the driver showed up at the hotel to track down his fare. He waited for us, he explained. He had walked around the airport trying to find us. He needed to paid, he said, because the money belonged to his boss, not him.
I sympathized, truly, but I couldn't help feeling that the man was a bit dim. I mean, who walks away from a fare? Not only the fare, but the actual car? And who waits till 10 track down their money - oh wait - money they owe to their boss? We could have been long gone by 10 in the morning. Several guests checked a few hours before he showed up.
Well, we paid him. Guess I shouldn't say we - my friend forked over the cash for the ordeal. There comes a point when its better to shove money at a problem to make it just be over. The driver had her write out a note that said she paid him, took the money, thanked us, and told us to call him if we needed to go anywhere else.
As you can probably guess, we never placed the call.
For more posts on Denpasar, click here.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
COMMENT POLICY: All comments are reviewed by the author before they are published. The comment form is only for personal messages. Please do not include hyperlinks in your comment, or it will be deleted. For business inquiries, please use the contact form (link at the top of the page). .