All the taxi drivers are part of a three-month competition to see who's the best. They just don't know it. And they can't just win by being safe, speedy and friendly. To be at the top, they need to stand out. The current standings are:
Last place: The guy that didn't give me the correct change and jipped me $6.00. Bad karma to him. Wait, does wishing him bad karma bring me bad karma?
Second to last place: The old, catatonic cabbie I had tonight, who I think drove us to the border of Bolivia before we made it to Sushi Isao in the Liberdade district.
First runner-up: The chivalrous man who got out of the car to hold my backpack while I got in, and then again when I got out.
First place: The only cab driver who asked if I needed a receipt before I requested one. She is also the only female driver I've had.
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