Who Says Bangkok Taxi Drivers Are Bad?

[TAWP]

That was really good, Thaidle. Now we really do have everything.

Glad you liked it. That's the first installment from my series "Hardboiled Tales from Low Risk Scenarios". In upcoming episodes "Crosswalk Double-cross" will describe how I've always gotten across the street without getting mown down by traffic, "The Maltese Faucet" will detail how a Thai plumber fixed my sink without planning a later robbery, and in "The Italianate Job" I'll recount how I got a double espresso and biscotti without being shortchanged or murdered.

Great stuff - start a new, legendary, thread!

[t.s]

That was really good, Thaidle. Now we really do have everything.

Glad you liked it. That's the first installment from my series "Hardboiled Tales from Low Risk Scenarios". In upcoming episodes "Crosswalk Double-cross" will describe how I've always gotten across the street without getting mown down by traffic, "The Maltese Faucet" will detail how a Thai plumber fixed my sink without planning a later robbery, and in "The Italianate Job" I'll recount how I got a double espresso and biscotti without being shortchanged or murdered.

The forum's looking up! More please!

Some people really have talent!

My stomach is aching!

thats not talent, thats likely the runs

[jrbkk64]

Recently my GF left her bag in a taxi. The bag had 2 mobile phones, a wallet with several cards and THB 10k cash. After discovery she called her mobiles and the driver answered. My GF was in the Silom area at the time and the cabbie was on his way to Minburi. They agreed to meet at our house. He came with the bag and ALL its contents a few hours later. She gave him THB 1,000.

After more than 7 years in BKK, I must say the vast majority of the taxi drivers are just normal guys, trying to make a living and mostly honest. The good ones do not have an easy life. Most rent the car for 12 hours at about 550 THB + petrol. The need to drive a taxi every day(no day off) for 12 hours to make about 12-15k/month.

The starting tariff has been 35THB for a long time. During the same time the price for fuel/gas has doubled.

[kat]

That was really good, Thaidle. Now we really do have everything.

Glad you liked it. That's the first installment from my series "Hardboiled Tales from Low Risk Scenarios". In upcoming episodes "Crosswalk Double-cross" will describe how I've always gotten across the street without getting mown down by traffic, "The Maltese Faucet" will detail how a Thai plumber fixed my sink without planning a later robbery, and in "The Italianate Job" I'll recount how I got a double espresso and biscotti without being shortchanged or murdered.

The forum's looking up! More please!

Some people really have talent!

My stomach is aching!

thats not talent, thats likely the runs

Yes, but that barb was extreme talent!

[kat]

The good ones do not have an easy life. Most rent the car for 12 hours at about 550 THB + petrol. The need to drive a taxi every day(no day off) for 12 hours to make about 12-15k/month.

The starting tariff has been 35THB for a long time. During the same time the price for fuel/gas has doubled.

Yes, I agree with the above statement, and do not dispute that there are good taxi drivers here, and stories of extraordinary honesty. In fact, I don't think I have ever disputed this fact, except to look at it as a balance of all my experiences.

[jetjock]

I only had one really bad experience in Bangkok a few years ago. We got in a taxi for a destination less than 1 kilometer away and 1 1/2 hours later the driver admitted he was totally lost all the way on the other side of town in a major traffic jam . We found out that he had only been driving for a month so we bailed out in the middle of the street after negotiating with another taxi driver out of our window that said he knew his way back to our destination. I consider driving in Bangkok traffic to be more like basic survival so I do give the taxi drivers a lot of credit for their expertise is just staying out of accidents.

[chiang mai]

Bad taxi stories are like everything else. You watch the news and you think that the world is going to he_l. No one wants to report the good and normal things. How many people would read stories about a taxi driver that picked up a passenger, and drove him to where he was supposed to go, and they did not have any problems. How many people would even bother to write such a story.

It was a dark and stormy night in Bangkok. I waved down a hack in one of the better districts and gave the driver my destination. He was playing it cool; kept his yapper shut, gave a low grunt and a slight toss of the head. He wheeled away from the curb and I slumped in the back seat like a puppet with its strings cut.

As we sped through the rain-slicked streets, his inscrutable Asian eyes now and then flicked into sight in the rear view mirror. Was he checking the traffic behind or was he casing me for the big score? I knew this ride was going to cost me. The only question was, how much?

For all I knew I was in a race with death, every kilometer taking me closer to the Big Sawatdee. Yeah, he was cagey, bidding his time. He played it cool alright... casually flipping between the presets on the cab's radio and even pausing at a red light to stuff a tube up his nose. Sure, it smelled of menthol, but maybe he was huffing back Bolivian marching powder or worse.

We rolled up to the place I needed to be and there was 67 on the meter. A six and a seven, adds to 13, just the thing I didn't need to know. It was going to be now or never so I made my move first; a feint to the waist band and then my hand flashed to my vest pocket. I came out with a matched pair, a blue and a green, and shoved them into his waiting fist. Whatever he had in mind that seemed to terminate things like a sap to the skull in a cheap brothel.

I got out and watched his tail lights as he drove off. As I hunched against the mist and lit a smoke I couldn't help but wonder about his next fare, his last fare, all the fares... Had they also had the same brush with the unknown as me? Blame it on too many bad broads or too much good gin if you want, but I use taxis in Bangkok, and I've lived to tell about it.

Excellent!

[bendix]

emperor tud - the Victor Meldrew of thaivisa.

Someone made the very good point about starting rates being the same for years, while costs have doubled. Surely that is the root cause of any so-called scams that seem to bedevil Victor?

I, for one, would happily pay if the starting rate was increased to 50 or 60 baht just so Viccie boy could feel a bit safer coming out of Meldrew Mansions once in a while.

[bendix]

Oh, and lest I forget. Thaiidlehands, great work fellow. You write wonderfully well.

[sbk]

It was a dark and stormy night in Bangkok. I waved down a hack in one of the better districts and gave the driver my destination. He was playing it cool; kept his yapper shut, gave a low grunt and a slight toss of the head. He wheeled away from the curb and I slumped in the back seat like a puppet with its strings cut.

As we sped through the rain-slicked streets, his inscrutable Asian eyes now and then flicked into sight in the rear view mirror. Was he checking the traffic behind or was he casing me for the big score? I knew this ride was going to cost me. The only question was, how much?

For all I knew I was in a race with death, every kilometer taking me closer to the Big Sawatdee. Yeah, he was cagey, bidding his time. He played it cool alright... casually flipping between the presets on the cab's radio and even pausing at a red light to stuff a tube up his nose. Sure, it smelled of menthol, but maybe he was huffing back Bolivian marching powder or worse.

We rolled up to the place I needed to be and there was 67 on the meter. A six and a seven, adds to 13, just the thing I didn't need to know. It was going to be now or never so I made my move first; a feint to the waist band and then my hand flashed to my vest pocket. I came out with a matched pair, a blue and a green, and shoved them into his waiting fist. Whatever he had in mind that seemed to terminate things like a sap to the skull in a cheap brothel.

I got out and watched his tail lights as he drove off. As I hunched against the mist and lit a smoke I couldn't help but wonder about his next fare, his last fare, all the fares... Had they also had the same brush with the unknown as me? Blame it on too many bad broads or too much good gin if you want, but I use taxis in Bangkok, and I've lived to tell about it.

[kat]

the longer you live in Bangkok, the less you'll have issues.Why :

1) your thai language competency increases(reading, speaking)

2) you know where to choose the best taxi's from(the most convenient side of the rd, not a stationary cab etc...)

3) you learn to detect the difference in "behavior" between a meter taxi and a non meter taxi, and of course, choose the former

4) you know the roads, sois , sub sois, shortcuts, traffic directions etc.... in the areas you frequent better than most taxi drivers themselves

5) you understand the reasons why they sometimes wont take you (ie: end of shift and destination is too inconvenient for them)..fair enough

6) you may still get the odd snotty prick, but you don't make a fuss, let alone incite violence..just politely exit the cab and hail another.

I disagree. The longer you live here the more the petty scams and try ons become apparent and the more tiresome and irritating they become. However if you are living here you will be likely using your own transport so dealing with cabbies becomes an infrequent, albeit mostly unrewarding experience.

If you haven't worked out most of the things on your list within a few weeks of being here you'll never work them out.

It would have been extremely difficult for me to "politely exit" a moving cab when I was being threatened by a driver high on metamphetamines and I am quite adequately trained to cope with such situations and not to incite violence. Perhaps next time before offering condescending advice you should be aware of all the circumstances and not jump to conclusions.

You offer an important perspective here, Emp Tud. It sounds like you live in Bangkok. Next time I'm there we'll have to hang out and get lost in a taxi

[Andiamo]

Great Writing Thaiidlehands, I could just picture the scene - your words evoked very vivid imagery.

Looking forward to the next installment.

[ThaidleHands]

The Not-so-long Unawaited Sequel to "Meters of Mayhem"

Crosswalk Double-cross

(Another Hardboiled Tale from Low Risk Scenarios)

It was a hot day in the Big Mango and I had places to be. I was hoofing it on one of the main drags and the sun was beating down on me like a sack of anvils in a Saturday morning cartoon. I needed to be some place all right but the place I really needed to be was anywhere but here.

With the last of my strength I legged it to a four-way intersection intent on copping some shade on the other side of the street. At the crossing a dozen, a hundred, a thousand lights glared at me, blinking, beckoning, challenging. Green and amber and red -- red like fresh blood, or maybe just a really tasty cherry lollipop -- all seemed taunt me, "What have you got, big boy?"

Reeling from this assault on the senses I espied a pair of traffic cops trying to referee a dance with mechanized death. The short, fat one talked into his radio, maybe he was calling for a paddy wagon to haul me off to the monkey house for some imagined offense. His tall, skinny partner did his best to ignore me but I was on to him. Behind his cotton mask was he sneering or just licking his lips... Was there a shake-down coming my way? We're things going to get extrajudicial?

Before they could spring their trap I decided to leg it, desperately fighting my fatigue with every step. You don't survive long in this burg if you're not prepared to turn tail at the first sign of trouble and I was a survivor first and foremost. All the way back to my place my shoulder blades expected a hot kiss from a 9mm slug and it wasn't until I'd closed the door, pushed all the furniture against it and got four double gins under my belt that I finally started to relax.

Maybe I didn't get where I was going but I'd gotten out of it with my skin in one piece. Good enough for me but I'll still sleep with the light on for a long time to come. And it will be a white light, not colored; I don't want anything to remind me of those horrific hues at the crosswalk where things could have gone so very wrong.

[kat]

Man, you're good. I think you're on to something, and I'm not joking.

[Andiamo]

The Not-so-long Unawaited Sequel to "Meters of Mayhem"

Crosswalk Double-cross

(Another Hardboiled Tale from Low Risk Scenarios)

It was a hot day in the Big Mango and I had places to be. I was hoofing it on one of the main drags and the sun was beating down on me like a sack of anvils in a Saturday morning cartoon. I needed to be some place all right but the place I really needed to be was anywhere but here.

With the last of my strength I legged it to a four-way intersection intent on copping some shade on the other side of the street. At the crossing a dozen, a hundred, a thousand lights glared at me, blinking, beckoning, challenging. Green and amber and red -- red like fresh blood, or maybe just a really tasty cherry lollipop -- all seemed taunt me, "What have you got, big boy?"

Reeling from this assault on the senses I espied a pair of traffic cops trying to referee a dance with mechanized death. The short, fat one talked into his radio, maybe he was calling for a paddy wagon to haul me off to the monkey house for some imagined offense. His tall, skinny partner did his best to ignore me but I was on to him. Behind his cotton mask was he sneering or just licking his lips... Was there a shake-down coming my way? We're things going to get extrajudicial?

Before they could spring their trap I decided to leg it, desperately fighting my fatigue with every step. You don't survive long in this burg if you're not prepared to turn tail at the first sign of trouble and I was a survivor first and foremost. All the way back to my place my shoulder blades expected a hot kiss from a 9mm slug and it wasn't until I'd closed the door, pushed all the furniture against it and got four double gins under my belt that I finally started to relax.

Maybe I didn't get where I was going but I'd gotten out of it with my skin in one piece. Good enough for me but I'll still sleep with the light on for a long time to come. And it will be a white light, not colored; I don't want anything to remind me of those horrific hues at the crosswalk where things could have gone so very wrong.

FAB!!!! Mr Writer Extraordinaire! I loved it!! Kudos , you really evoke an atmosphere. I was just surprised there was no mist in this one unlike the taxi one from last night.

Thank goodness you had Gin at home otherwise you may have had to risk life and limb going to Villa or Tops! Heaven Forbid! - Can just imagine the sequel in THAT scenario!! Motto to self - always make sure there is Gin at home ESPECIALLY after crossing an intersection.

[ThaidleHands]

The Maltese Faucet

(Yet Another Hardboiled Tale from Low Risk Scenarios)

I'd heard all about the drip but I never expected it to happen to me. The annoyance, keeping me awake... Not what I needed on a night as hot as the armpit of a corpulent Pattaya expat. I tried to fix it with my hand but it just wouldn't stop. I was going to need a plumber.

When dawn finally broke I slid off the sweaty sheets, grabbed a shower, threw on my cleanest togs and ankled down to the rental office. The big lady looked me up and down with her hard Chinese eyes and rubbed her calloused money-counting hands together. I got right to the point, "The sink. The water. It doesn't stop."

She sat there like a statue, only her eyelids moving, narrowing to slits you couldn't have pushed a matchbook through. You could almost see the gears grind inside her head and then, finally, coldly, "I'll send the mechanic. Three o'clock."

I wasn't giving anything away. I just nodded and beat it back to my place. The mechanic... Yeah, I'd seen him around; bad haircut, worse skin, a creased and shiny blue safari suit and a rusty toolbox. And now he was coming to my place, coming for me.

I waited out the hours, the steady drip of the tap like a metronome measuring the time for a waltz with eternity. Three came and went, he didn't show. Probably just psyching me out, trying to put me on edge. I tried not to let it get to me but when the knock at the door came at 11 past the hour I shot out of my chair like I'd been electrocuted.

I checked through the peephole and an eternity passed while I tried to make out a face. The mechanic was here; the time had come; it was on. Now. I let him in and backed halfway across the room always keeping his dull eyes and his toolbox, that potential vault of hot death, fixed in my gaze.

In the back of my brain there was only one thought; I couldn't show weakness or fear, or he might be on me like a cheap suit on an English teacher. Ages passed, he worked slowly, not reaching too often into the toolbox but still too often for my tastes. Then without warning he stood, grabbed his tools and made for the door. My bluff had worked for all he could stammer was, "Take care office."

"Yeah, I will. Everybody will take care and it can all end right here," I thought. I've seen him around since then, but what had he seen that day he fixed my faucet? I've been careful, always made eye contact letting him know I'm not a patsy, not a pushover. There hasn't been trouble, not yet, but a lot of things can happen in this ville...

[kat]

I think you have an official fan base now, Thaidle

*unsolicited advice, though: excellent, excellent writing, but be careful not to present racial stereotypes, even accidentally.

Edited November 14, 2007 by kat

[Andiamo]

The Maltese Faucet

(Yet Another Hardboiled Tale from Low Risk Scenarios)

I'd heard all about the drip but I never expected it to happen to me. The annoyance, keeping me awake... Not what I needed on a night as hot as the armpit of a corpulent Pattaya expat. I tried to fix it with my hand but it just wouldn't stop. I was going to need a plumber.

When dawn finally broke I slid off the sweaty sheets, grabbed a shower, threw on my cleanest togs and ankled down to the rental office. The big lady looked me up and down with her hard Chinese eyes and rubbed her calloused money-counting hands together. I got right to the point, "The sink. The water. It doesn't stop."

She sat there like a statue, only her eyelids moving, narrowing to slits you couldn't have pushed a matchbook through. You could almost see the gears grind inside her head and then, finally, coldly, "I'll send the mechanic. Three o'clock."

I wasn't giving anything away. I just nodded and beat it back to my place. The mechanic... Yeah, I'd seen him around; bad haircut, worse skin, a creased and shiny blue safari suit and a rusty toolbox. And now he was coming to my place, coming for me.

I waited out the hours, the steady drip of the tap like a metronome measuring the time for a waltz with eternity. Three came and went, he didn't show. Probably just psyching me out, trying to put me on edge. I tried not to let it get to me but when the knock at the door came at 11 past the hour I shot out of my chair like I'd been electrocuted.

I checked through the peephole and an eternity passed while I tried to make out a face. The mechanic was here; the time had come; it was on. Now. I let him in and backed halfway across the room always keeping his dull eyes and his toolbox, that potential vault of hot death, fixed in my gaze.

In the back of my brain there was only one thought; I couldn't show weakness or fear, or he might be on me like a cheap suit on an English teacher. Ages passed, he worked slowly, not reaching too often into the toolbox but still too often for my tastes. Then without warning he stood, grabbed his tools and made for the door. My bluff had worked for all he could stammer was, "Take care office."

"Yeah, I will. Everybody will take care and it can all end right here," I thought. I've seen him around since then, but what had he seen that day he fixed my faucet? I've been careful, always made eye contact letting him know I'm not a patsy, not a pushover. There hasn't been trouble, not yet, but a lot of things can happen in this ville...

LOVED it ThaidleHands - "he might be on me like a cheap suit on an English teacher." had me laughing out loud!

Love it how you take everyday situations and turn them into a "near death experience." I'm relieved to hear you escaped with your life once again (but only just eh...),until the next dastardly situation that is

Edited November 14, 2007 by Andiamo

[kiakaha]

the longer you live in Bangkok, the less you'll have issues.Why :

1) your thai language competency increases(reading, speaking)

2) you know where to choose the best taxi's from(the most convenient side of the rd, not a stationary cab etc...)

3) you learn to detect the difference in "behavior" between a meter taxi and a non meter taxi, and of course, choose the former

4) you know the roads, sois , sub sois, shortcuts, traffic directions etc.... in the areas you frequent better than most taxi drivers themselves

5) you understand the reasons why they sometimes wont take you (ie: end of shift and destination is too inconvenient for them)..fair enough

6) you may still get the odd snotty prick, but you don't make a fuss, let alone incite violence..just politely exit the cab and hail another.

I disagree. The longer you live here the more the petty scams and try ons become apparent and the more tiresome and irritating they become. However if you are living here you will be likely using your own transport so dealing with cabbies becomes an infrequent, albeit mostly unrewarding experience.

If you haven't worked out most of the things on your list within a few weeks of being here you'll never work them out.

It would have been extremely difficult for me to "politely exit" a moving cab when I was being threatened by a driver high on metamphetamines and I am quite adequately trained to cope with such situations and not to incite violence. Perhaps next time before offering condescending advice you should be aware of all the circumstances and not jump to conclusions.

I don't know anyone whose been here a few weeks that can lay testament to points 1,4 and 5. I do agree that after while you'll use your own transport more.I have a car and driver.Only use cabs if my wife has buggered off with the car. Anyway, just my perspective of living in Bangkok continuously for 11 yrs.

[meemiathai]

I think you have an official fan base now, Thaidle

*unsolicited advice, though: excellent, excellent writing, but be careful not to present racial stereotypes, even accidentally.

Only small minded people would get offended in my opinion.

[meemiathai]

The Maltese Faucet

(Yet Another Hardboiled Tale from Low Risk Scenarios)

I'd heard all about the drip but I never expected it to happen to me. The annoyance, keeping me awake... Not what I needed on a night as hot as the armpit of a corpulent Pattaya expat. I tried to fix it with my hand but it just wouldn't stop. I was going to need a plumber.

When dawn finally broke I slid off the sweaty sheets, grabbed a shower, threw on my cleanest togs and ankled down to the rental office. The big lady looked me up and down with her hard Chinese eyes and rubbed her calloused money-counting hands together. I got right to the point, "The sink. The water. It doesn't stop."

She sat there like a statue, only her eyelids moving, narrowing to slits you couldn't have pushed a matchbook through. You could almost see the gears grind inside her head and then, finally, coldly, "I'll send the mechanic. Three o'clock."

I wasn't giving anything away. I just nodded and beat it back to my place. The mechanic... Yeah, I'd seen him around; bad haircut, worse skin, a creased and shiny blue safari suit and a rusty toolbox. And now he was coming to my place, coming for me.

I waited out the hours, the steady drip of the tap like a metronome measuring the time for a waltz with eternity. Three came and went, he didn't show. Probably just psyching me out, trying to put me on edge. I tried not to let it get to me but when the knock at the door came at 11 past the hour I shot out of my chair like I'd been electrocuted.

I checked through the peephole and an eternity passed while I tried to make out a face. The mechanic was here; the time had come; it was on. Now. I let him in and backed halfway across the room always keeping his dull eyes and his toolbox, that potential vault of hot death, fixed in my gaze.

In the back of my brain there was only one thought; I couldn't show weakness or fear, or he might be on me like a cheap suit on an English teacher. Ages passed, he worked slowly, not reaching too often into the toolbox but still too often for my tastes. Then without warning he stood, grabbed his tools and made for the door. My bluff had worked for all he could stammer was, "Take care office."

"Yeah, I will. Everybody will take care and it can all end right here," I thought. I've seen him around since then, but what had he seen that day he fixed my faucet? I've been careful, always made eye contact letting him know I'm not a patsy, not a pushover. There hasn't been trouble, not yet, but a lot of things can happen in this ville...

Just a little opinion, they are coming out too fast. Wait a couple of days and people will be waiting.

You have one fan here.

[meemiathai]

the longer you live in Bangkok, the less you'll have issues.Why :

1) your thai language competency increases(reading, speaking)

2) you know where to choose the best taxi's from(the most convenient side of the rd, not a stationary cab etc...)

3) you learn to detect the difference in "behavior" between a meter taxi and a non meter taxi, and of course, choose the former

4) you know the roads, sois , sub sois, shortcuts, traffic directions etc.... in the areas you frequent better than most taxi drivers themselves

5) you understand the reasons why they sometimes wont take you (ie: end of shift and destination is too inconvenient for them)..fair enough

6) you may still get the odd snotty prick, but you don't make a fuss, let alone incite violence..just politely exit the cab and hail another.

I disagree. The longer you live here the more the petty scams and try ons become apparent and the more tiresome and irritating they become. However if you are living here you will be likely using your own transport so dealing with cabbies becomes an infrequent, albeit mostly unrewarding experience.

If you haven't worked out most of the things on your list within a few weeks of being here you'll never work them out.

It would have been extremely difficult for me to "politely exit" a moving cab when I was being threatened by a driver high on metamphetamines and I am quite adequately trained to cope with such situations and not to incite violence. Perhaps next time before offering condescending advice you should be aware of all the circumstances and not jump to conclusions.

I don't know anyone whose been here a few weeks that can lay testament to points 1,4 and 5. I do agree that after while you'll use your own transport more.I have a car and driver.Only use cabs if my wife has buggered off with the car. Anyway, just my perspective of living in Bangkok continuously for 11 yrs.

Don't bother! ET has got very bad luck.

I have been a tourist here in bangkok for 10 times and I have traveled by myself in taxi a lot of times. The only time we had a problem was when me and my sister got on a taxi in sukhumvit soi 9 and wanted to go to china town, he said 400baht, I said nothing and we got off and that was it.

[track61]

That was really good, Thaidle. Now we really do have everything.

Glad you liked it. That's the first installment from my series "Hardboiled Tales from Low Risk Scenarios". In upcoming episodes "Crosswalk Double-cross" will describe how I've always gotten across the street without getting mown down by traffic, "The Maltese Faucet" will detail how a Thai plumber fixed my sink without planning a later robbery, and in "The Italianate Job" I'll recount how I got a double espresso and biscotti without being shortchanged or murdered.

The forum's looking up! More please!

And he has a ready-made market here!

Market yes, renumeration no, if there was a hat would throw in a few stang. Enjoyable read and great story line idea. Looking forward to more.

L

[PadThaiGuy]

I've been using the same taxi driver out in front of my office for years.

One afternoon, I forgot my cell phone in the back seat. I called the number and he picked up.

Only wanted a 1,000bt to return it.

[ThaidleHands]

I think you have an official fan base now, Thaidle

*unsolicited advice, though: excellent, excellent writing, but be careful not to present racial stereotypes, even accidentally.

Only small minded people would get offended in my opinion.

Stereotypes (racial, ethnic, professional or otherwise) are deliberately included for the reason that they are ubiquitous within the genre of hardboiled fiction. No malice is intended, I'll keep them mild, and they are included solely to give the stories an authentic feel.

(Of course, if I can work in a Pollock or one of those child-stealing Gypsies, all bets are off...)

[taxexile]

*unsolicited advice, though: excellent, excellent writing, but be careful not to present racial stereotypes, even accidentally.

thaidle hands , have you ever had a suit made at an indian tailor shop ??

if so i'm sure your readers would like to hear about it.

Edited November 15, 2007 by taxexile

[Xangsamhua]

Brilliant stuff, TH. "... a night as hot as the armpit of a corpulent Pattaya expat" - what an image!

I hope you've got lots more ideas and I hope your talent doesn't go unrewarded. I'd love to read more - on TV or in another form.

[Scott]

I've generally had pretty good luck with Taxi Drivers. I don't use them very often anymore, but I did for many years and had only a couple of bad--well, not so much bad as akward--experiences. Once when one stopped and decided the traffic was too bad to go somewhere and let me and other passengers off. He didn't charge us, however, just said sorry and left. We got another taxi.

One had a number pasted on the meter so it automatically looked like the fare was 125 baht (instead of starting at 25 at that time). Just said no, no and got out.

Also had a few who just didn't want to go where I was going and said no--which is a lot nicer than going and leaving you somewhere.

A few mistakes in getting to the destination, but those appeared genuine and honest.

That's about it out of thousands of cab rides. I've had friends who have had bad luck (according to them), but this hasn't been my experience by and large.

[Thaiboxer]

When I use taxis, it's almost always to get to a place in which I know the best route. I simply tell the guy to take that route as some will try to take you on a longer route to rack up the fare. Most taxis I've taken were good....I'd say 80% of them. The drove well and didn't try to rip me off. I always make sure those guys get a good tip. Many Thais don't tip taxi drivers, but I do since we all know how hard many of them work and what they have to put up with (traffic, crazy passengers, etc).

[ThaidleHands]

The forum's looking up! More please!

And he has a ready-made market here!

Market yes, renumeration no, if there was a hat would throw in a few stang. Enjoyable read and great story line idea. Looking forward to more.

L

Just a little opinion, they are coming out too fast. Wait a couple of days and people will be waiting.

You have one fan here.

Thanks, and advice taken.

*unsolicited advice, though: excellent, excellent writing, but be careful not to present racial stereotypes, even accidentally.

thaidle hands , have you ever had a suit made at an indian tailor shop ??

if so i'm sure your readers would like to hear about it.

As a matter of fact... Some possible future Hardboiled Tales from Low Risk Scenarios:

The Italianate Job

Espresso and a snack lead to hints of forbidden practices

Wings of Wickedness

A tale of passports, persistance and personal courage

Sidewalk Sayonara

Surviving an encounter with an unstoppable force

The Baan Identity

Can an address be found before it's too late?

Bingo-a-Go-Go

A deadly game of chance on a dance floor

Dial P for Pizza

Topping the list of home delivery close calls...

Delhi-verance

A sordid story of Indians and inner-leg measurements (Adult Themes)

The Lucky Seven

Convenience leads to confusion and a near-tragic encounter

The Man Who Nuu Too Much

Pest control may lead to a deadly peril