On Monday morning I was taking too much time getting ready for work. I read some e-mails, played around on the internet, had a second cup of coffee and soon I realized I was going to be late -- very late. I called a taxi rather than take my chances with transit. I asked the dispatcher if the taxis were busy, and he said they were busier than usual, but there would really be no delay. He asked me for name and address, and said to go outside right away. I put on my coat, juggled my purse, my keys and a bag of trash to be put into the garbage bin outside my building. As I got outside, my cab was there, and another couple was getting into it.
"Hey...! That's my cab...!"
"No it isn't," they said. "We called for a taxi at 9:00 last night."
They were loading their luggage into the taxi, and I asked the taxi driver to confirm the address to which he had been dispatched. He gave my name and address, however the couple getting into the taxi were not only from across the street, they had called a different taxi company.
"The driver just confirmed this taxi is the one I called."
Who was to know when their taxi would arrive, and if I didn't take the one dispatched for me, I would be late for work and in big trouble with
I know what you're thinking. I should have been gracious and let them take the taxi, and waited for theirs. And you're right -- I should have. I was rude and discourteous, perhaps even selfish. It certainly wasn't the Canadian thing to do. When I came home today, I almost expected to see them still standing on the curb, looking lost and forlorn, with their luggage piled beside them. That would have served me right. It has bothered me all day, and perhaps that's a good sign.