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A smelly, broken 90s Japanese car that Indians and Pakistanis love. It’s like a drunk pig in a tin can, full of junk, stinks like a toilet, and it’s barely holding together. They’ll charge you double and honk their horn like a lunatic.
My Paki taxi turned up 45 minutes late and smelled like a dead goat. I asked for a fare to the airport and he charged me for a holiday in Bali.
I got in his taxi and there was a half-eaten burger on the floor and a dead spider on the seat. He didn’t even ask if I wanted a seat cover.
He dropped me off at 2 a. m. and said, ‘You look like you’ve been to war.’ I said, ‘You look like you’ve been to war and lost.’