Okay, now I'm not so enamored of these Boston taxis. Not that I've ever been enamored of the taxis, actually. I find them more of a necessary evil than a convenience.

Anyway, tonight's made me very, very nervous. So nervous, in fact, that I started texting Kris with updates of where I was as the taxi was driving, the wrong way in some cases. The Bruins game just got out, and the normal way was blocked, we have to go this way. He turned left, instead of right, right being the direction of the hotel, the direction of last night's taxi route back to the hotel.

Um....

I realized that Kris probably wasn't going to get these text messages, or respond to them. I started texting Andy. At least he has a data plan. I sent the various locations as we were passing them, thinking, well, even if something bad happened, at least they'd know where I was last. I don't know, maybe I overreacted. Okay, yeah, I overreacted. But the taxi driver was creepy. I mean, not only did he drive the wrong way, but he kept muttering as he was driving, and looking back at me, and quickly looking away. He didn't use the windshield wipers, or defrosters, the windows started fogging up. All the windows. I ended up rolling down the windows to see out. Well, rolling down the windows, looking out, freaking out, and texting Andy.

I made it back to the hotel safely. To my surprise, the fare was less than last night's fare.

Well, if you don't add in the text message costs, I guess.

Before:

After:

There's another conference going on in the same facility as the Drupal Conference, which is sub-renting the space from the bigger conference. Though we started on Monday, this conference started today. Many more people here today, with completed booths and all.

Though, I can't imagine these people actually being engrossed in the presentation they're listening to at this moment. I mean, it's about documents.

For the most part, I can't stand my long torso. Well, it's not so much the long torso I don't like as the short legs I have that accompany that torso. Sure, I'm 5'7", but when I'm sitting, I'm 6'2"! Not kidding there. In college, I had a boyfriend who was 6'2". When we sat next to each other, I was as tall as he was. That year, I stood next to a 5'2" friend and compared leg lengths. Our lengths were the same.

Oh, this has caused so much fun (that was sarcasm) over the years. There was the time at a Rippit dinner when we sat along the wall and compared leg length and torso height: only Mike was taller than I am. Keebler was close. Sarah had no torso, but wow, all legs, baby!

You can imagine where having a long torso and being married to a man with a normal length torso might be, well, annoying, say, when kissing.

Yeah, well, today, I didn't mind so much.

Sitting in the back of the conference room, I sat up straight (yes, yes, I know, I know, something I NEVER do). Hey, what do you know, I could see over everyone in front of me.

I'm definitely running the gamut of taxi rides on this trip.

Contrasting to yesterday's stinky, unpleasant ride, this morning's taxi ride was completely bearable, if not approaching enjoyable. When I requested the front desk call me a cab, I specifically stated I didn't want a smoking one. "No taxis are non-smoking in Boston," I was told.

Uh huh, right. And I'm still a virgin.

Just ask Kris.

Poor, poor Kris.

The driver that picked me up this morning was one of those prototypical friendly Boston taxi drivers. He immediately started talking, complimenting me on my directions to the conference center ("I'd like to go to the conference center, the new conference center, the new conference center on Summer Street, do you know where that is? I have a map if you don't."). I don't know if offering a map to a taxi driver is offensive or not, but I'd rather not be arguing with a taxi driver about my destination when a map will suffice.

The driver told me about various rides he had picked up, a nine year old that needed to be taken to school because her mom woke up too late, the German doctors who were angry he took them to the wrong place when he took them where they asked to go which wasn't where they wanted to go, stories like those.

At one point, he asked if he could smoke. When I said no, he laughed, oh, he was just joking, he doesn't smoke. As a matter of fact, he doesn't drink coffee, either. Of course, I didn't think to ask if he drinks alcohol, but he doesn't gamble either ("All I'm doing is giving them my money. Why would I want to do that?").

I wondered why he was driving taxis, as we drove over the various bridges, but didn't ask.

His girlfriend, who might have been his wife, I didn't ask about that either, called during the ride. He answered the phone, but waited until we were stopped at a stoplight before talking. The woman wanted him to pick her up and drive her to the hospital. Sure, he would, did she have a ride home afterward?

It made me continue to wonder about him. He seemed like a good guy, with only Cuban cigars as a vice ("Oh, they smell so good!"). He was willing to drive someone, without pay, during his shift, no less, losing income during the drive. Okay, so maybe he wasn't a good businessman. I'm not sure I'd want to drive someone somewhere, anywhere, if I drove for a living.

I tipped him well.