Crazy Bangkok Taxi Driver
What was atypical was that the maniac drove on the shoulder of the freeway – brushing the freakin wall – in the rain.
The taxi driver was crazy. I think he's certifiably mad. He got me to the airport through rush hour traffic (every hour in Bangkok is rush hour, where traffic lights go red for twelve minutes at a time) in under an hour, but at my failing heart's expense.
This is typical (I can handle typical): cutting off 18 wheelers, changing lanes without signalling, riding other cars' bumpers, cutting in front of lines.
The cars behind us swerved, screeched and honked their dismay.
It was also drizzling.
What was atypical was that the maniac drove on the shoulder of the freeway – brushing the freakin wall – in the rain. He also straddled lanes – going 65 km/hr between moving cars – two wheels in one lane, two wheels in the other, and I could roll down the window and touch the idled cars as we roared passed.
And through it all, he fiddled with the radio station, adjusted the seatbelt on the front passenger seat, and had one hand on the wheel and the other on a cigarette.