After my very delayed flight left me at Logan at 01:00, I had to get a taxi home. The cab smelt of gasoline, and the driver was a crotchety old guy with silver hair and a hearing aid. I shouted instructions into the front with gradually increasing volume until he managed to make out the word ‘Davis’.
As we approached the square, I tried to use a few clearly enunciated loud words to guide him further. He somehow got the idea that the destination was Teele Square. I managed to persuade him that no, I just wanted him to leave Davis in the direction of Teele, and that I really did mean for him to turn onto Cameron Avenue. At that point I decided to bail, asked him to stop anywhere, paid, and walked the rest of the way.