Taxi!
B1: Get in guys. Hurry up! To the Chicago Theatre buddy.
G1: Where are the tickets G2? Keep them at hand. We don’t want to be
searching for them at the theatre.
B2: You know, in training we had a saying – always keep your tools at
hand. You never know when you might get some action. Haha!
G1: Ew, thats disgusting. You’re such a racist.
G2: No, thats not racist… thats just sexist.
G1: Whatever. That’s a nice hat, G2. Where’d you get it?
G2: Oh, I got it off the street, from one of those Mexican hawkers.
B1: Uh, how do you know they’re all mexican? You can’t just say that
all hawkers you see on the street are mexican.
G2: Well they looked Mexican to me. Oops, was that racist?
B2: You know, I don’t really care what race you belong to, as long as
you’re nice to me. I don’t judge people by the colour of their skin,
or what country they’re from. Except for you, B1. Coz you’re just a
stingy jew.
B1: Ha! Absolutely. Its in my blood. Its like I wouldn’t be a real jew
if I wasn’t.
G2: Ha! That’s funny B1. But you haven’t seen real stinginess till
you’ve seen <need a stinginess stereotype here>…
B1: Alright we’re here. How much was it?
Taxi!
Man: Come on honey, hurry up. We’re getting late. Here, get in with C.
I’ll keep the bags in the trunk.
W: Stop that whining, C! You’ve had enough chocolates for today. Now
behave yourself, or I’ll leave you right here.
M: Ok, hon. Lets go. Driver, to the airport please. And could you take
a shortcut or something? We’re getting late for the flight.
Driver: Yes sir.
W (diff language): Now don’t you go about giving him any ideas. You
don’t know where he could be taking us.
C: Mommy, mommy, why is driver uncle so dark?
M: Hush, C. Its not nice to say that. Sorry about that.
Driver: No problem sir. Its alright.
(A different language)
W: You don’t know what sort of people live in these parts. It’s such a
shady neighborhood. I told you to call up the taxi company. Don’t know
how such people land up here.
M: Yes, dear. But what else could i have done? Looked at who was
driving, before getting in? Come on, not all drivers are criminals.
C: Uncle, uncle… why are you so dark?
Driver: Thats because God painted me that way, son. Why is the sky not green?
W: I don’t know, but I just don’t feel safe. I just pray that God
protects us from such people.
C: Mommy, mommy, why is blue not green?
M: Alright now, stop it. We’re here. How much is it?
Taxi!
M: Hey bro! Could you take me to ___.
D: Sure.
M: Thanks, man. It sure is hot today.
D: Yes it is.
M: Hmm, thats a nice song, bro. Could you turn up the volume a bit?
D: Sure.
M: My friend would sing this song a lot. It was his favourite. He said
it was something about “Life is a strange play, sometimes it makes you
laugh, sometimes cry.” He’d sing it to his wife when he was married.
Funny thing is, he still sings it after his wife left him.
D: Why’d he get divorced?
M: Oh, the usual fights and quarrels. He married a white girl from
here to get his citizenship. But he claimed it was love.
D: Maybe it was then.
M: Love? How can one love these women? Are these white women even
worthy of love? They’ll take one for the day and then go with another
for the night.
D: Not all are like that, my friend.
M: They’re all alike, bro. You don’t know these people. Anyway, here’s
my stop. Thanks a lot. <need some more arguments>
Taxi!
John: To the ___, driver.
Mary: They spent a lot of efforts to make that dinner. Why didn’t you
eat anything?
John: I wasn’t hungry.
Mary: But you didn’t even drink water. They might have felt offended.
J: So what was I supposed to do?!! Defile myself to make someone feel good?
M: Defile yourself? By having a glass of water? What? Did the water
become dirty when she touched the glass?
J: Look, I just didn’t feel comfortable. I couldn’t eat with them
without feeling uneasy about it.
M: But why John? What is so different about them? Aren’t they human
enough for you?
J: They cook things that are considered dirty among us. The way they
walk, talk, live. Don’t tell me you don’t feel even a little disgusted
by it.
M: No, I don’t! They’re not the ones I feel disgusted about, right now. How
can you base your opinion of people on such… such irrational
beliefs?
J: Look, I don’t try to be like this. Its just something I feel. I
can’t explain it. And I’m not going to be hypocritical and pretend to
be something I’m not.
M: But… why? What if I were one of them? Would you think of me the same way?
J: Ok, enough of this. We’ve reached. How much was it?
Taxi!
M: 30 E Hubbard St, please.
D: Good evening sir.
M: Oh yes, its definitely a good evening. I wonder why they call it
the windy city, though. Its anything but. Perfect day to relax on the
pier fishing. Now, doesn’t that sound tempting. Some nice jazz music
perhaps, what do you think?
D: Chicago wasn’t named “The windy city” because of its weather. <the
story behind it> Not everything is as it seems, sir. And I don’t think
I can relax like that sir… <need stereotype of rich people>
M: Do you get worried that someone might take away your job? That
they’ll hire some new immigrant for lesser money?
D: No. Not really. The way I see it, if they find someone more capable
than me, they have every right to. Its me who should learn the skills
that they seek in others.
M: Well, don’t you already have the skills? How many languages do you know?
D: About 12.
M: 12?!! How did you learn so many?
D: Living on the streets you tend to meet a lot of people. You end up
learning a lot about their fears, their principles, their beliefs.
M: So, tell me. Why are people racist? Do they really hate each other so much?
D: I think its about respect, sir. People crave for respect wherever
they go. I guess they just don’t like to be looked down upon. Well, atleast that’s what I think.
M: I think it has something to do with our desire to be unique. We try
our utmost to be different and hate it when someone categorizes us.
Ok, here’s my destination. How much is it?