Taxi drivers. You pricks.

Anyone who have ever flown into Lyon in France, knows that it is a god-awful drive of something like 30 minutes from the airport to even the outskirts of the city. Our company always used taxis to get us from the airport to the client, who was located too far from the rail station to make it a practical alternative.

The first time I landed there, I confidently hailed a cab and gave him the address. Off we went and 60 Euros later he deposited me at the client. Meeting over, back to the airport. But the return trip only cost 35 Euros. What had happened is that the criminal fraudster that was driving the taxi on the inbound leg had intentionally driven around knowing I would have no way of knowing.

Not in the words of a former American president: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

The next time I went to Lyon I was prepared. I confidently hailed a taxi. When I got in, I asked the taxi driver from which country he was originally (he was clearly not born in France). He told me Turkey. I then ripped my GPS out of my bag, plugged in the client’s address, changed the language to Turkish and told him to follow the directions. Taxi cost: 35 Euros.

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