The Airport Taxi From Hell

airport-taxiThere is mystery in the air. Stop whatever you’re doing and sniff the air around you. If you can ignore the fish and the next guy’s sweat, I think you can smell the mystery in the air. I know I can. I think I am being followed by an airport taxi. Everywhere I go and everywhere I turn, there’s an airport taxi lurking near by. I think there is a conspiracy afoot and yesterday, I thought about it long and hard and I have a feeling that I’ve hit upon the truth.

Once upon a time, I was in love with a strange girl from Hawaii. Her name was Yu Suk, and she was perhaps the third most beautiful woman in the world. We loved each other very mush much and though we were separated by more than 5000 miles of ocean, we believed that one fine day we would be together and live happily every after. The long distance relationship proved to be arduous and drained the both of us completely, and I decided to end it. That’s when she decided to fly down to Bangalore and meet me and show me just how much she loved me. I was over the moon!

I dressed up in my favorite yellow T-shirt and blue jeans and drove all the way to the airport on the day. I reached an hour early and paced up and down, waiting for Yu Suk to arrive. I could hardly stand still in my excitement. I was nervous and feeling a bit horny at the same time! I guess it’s natural.

Finally, the flight monitor indicated that the flight from Hawaii had landed and that passengers were at the customs line. I was waiting right in front of the exit gate, standing behind the ubiquitous group of white-uniformed taxi drivers who were holding up cardboard placards with names of their guests written. Slowly, one by one, the passengers from Hawaii walked out into the bright Bangalore sun, shielded their eyes from the glare and searched for their respective receptions.

The taxi driver in front of me was chatting with his colleague next to him about his wife. He was saying, “What can I do, brother? She just cannot be satisfied every night. I feel she’s draining me out!”

To this, his colleague replied, “You want some help, brother?” and winked and they both burst out laughing. I cringed at the crassness of their conversation, but couldn’t help overhearing it. The first driver continued, “If anyone, ANYONE, mentions the S-word again, I’ll kill them personally!” and they both started guffawing heartily. I just figured that the guy was totally and completely asexual and pitied his wife.

Just then, in the throng of the crowd, I saw her! There she was! Graceful and beautiful and as sexy as ever – wearing her favorite yellow tank top over a flowery knee-length skirt that flowed all around her. Her face was the embodiment of all the love and lust in the world – the high cheekbones, the sexy blue-green eyes, the straight black hair that fell in small fluffy curls just below her shoulder, those petite hips, those firm breasts, those long beautiful eyelashes, oh, I was so much in love!

She looked around her, scanning my waiting crowd from her moving crowd, looking for me, searching for the face of her lover. I waved my hand frantically and called her name out, “Yuuuuuuuuu Suuuuuuuuuuuuk!”

I started running towards her in slow motion. The crowd around me dissolved into fields of poppies, with butterflies fluttering around, the sun shining down with it’s golden rays dripping with love, drenching the two of us in that moment of ecstasy. Her face broke into a beautiful smile as she saw me and she ran towards me in slow motion, through our very own field of poppies. I held out my arms to embrace her, and she held out her arms to run into mine. At that moment, I felt something hard hit me on the back of my head and I tripped over myself and fell face-down on the hard concrete floor of the airport. The field of poppies and the butterflies disappeared and I could just see dazed stars all around me for a few moments.

I was aware of distinct voices – one angry and one concerned – around me. I looked up and saw Yu suk arguing with a taxi driver. It was the guy who was standing in front of me, discussing his wife. I sat up and rubbed the back of my head and saw an old but heavy boot lying next to me. He had thrown a boot at me! That bastard!

“Hey!” I cried standing up. “What the fuck were you thinking throwing shoes at people?” I geared up for a fight.

“You bastard!” he cried. “You abused me verbally!”

I was confused. “Eh, what? When did I do that? Stop talking nonsense!”

“Shut up, you punk! You said, ‘You Suck!’ so loudly that the whole bloody airport heard it!”

So, thus began a hatred, rooted in mis-communication, that spanned the better half of the next decade – a decade that involved a lot of stalking, prank calls, threatening calls and three trips to the police station and one to the hospital. It got so bad that the cops finally had to request me to stop beating him up every time I saw him. I reluctantly agreed and made a deal with the bastard – I’d leave him alone if he accepted that it wasn’t my fault to begin with. He was lying with three broken bones in the hospital bed, covered in bandages from head to toe, when he agreed. I could see hatred in his eyes.

It’s been four years since I’ve heard from him or seen him, and recently, I think I scratched his car by mistake while I was parking my bike near my office. I did not notice the number of the car, but I am damn sure it was him, because when I came back after work, my bike wouldn’t start – there were sugar lumps in the petrol tank and both my tires were flat.

I began noticing his car everywhere I went – the bastard is stalking me! I think it’s time I remind him who the better man is. I think it’s time for him to visit the hospital again. πŸ˜€

Moral of the story: Do not believe everything you read on MirrorCracked.

Open Question: If a love bite is calledΒ  ‘hickey,’ what’s a love scratch called?

Published by Nikhil

Nikhil Kumar lives in Bangalore with his wife and their stuffed dog. They are both advertising professionals and lead very exciting lives on the streets, dodging traffic. Their fridge is filled with cans of Diet Coke and their water heater doesn't work. He doesn't smoke (up) anymore.

26 thoughts on “The Airport Taxi From Hell

  1. //If a love bite is called β€˜hickey,’ what’s a love scratch called?

    H’itchy’ perhaps?! πŸ˜‰

  2. I never.. anyways… believe anything I read up here.. πŸ˜›

    But Jesus H Christ… Yellow t-shirt… :O and poppies and butterflies… ??? Dude.. My guess is that u were sometime in your past, hit by an old shoe.. πŸ˜›

    Open question: Love scratch would probably be called Yickey… πŸ˜€ used a bit of logical reasoning.. πŸ˜›

  3. well i would call it a ‘Yu Scratch…!’ or whatever…

    seriously where do u get all this from?

    i mean i am just left aghast every single day… u beat me to my game of randomness… hats off…!

    love every bit of it πŸ˜€

  4. @Vimal
    LOL… That’s the mystery, dude! πŸ˜‰

    Hehe! good one! πŸ˜‰

    Hahahaha!! Yickey, eh? Hmmm… πŸ˜€

    I’m honored, ma’am! πŸ˜€

  5. u fell for jing bang flowers and an anorexic chic?
    ’twas not the boot that did it, the nurse dropped you on ur head when you were born!

    Jokes apart…’m LMAO!


  6. I was thinking its a real story until I read this

    “He was lying with three broken bones in the hospital bed, covered in bandages from head to toe, when he agreed”

    I knew it was fiction πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

  7. I was actually quite smitten for a bit there.. and then like that driver hit you on the head, i felt something knock me and I landed on red oxide flooring!

    Y(o)u Su(c)k!!!

  8. Moral of the story: Do not believe everything you read on MirrorCracked.

    Seriously? You need that written down?! Especially after this story! πŸ™‚

    Apu: What happened to your blogavatar /gravatar?

  9. I never believe in anything u write here…use stories like this to do ur PR work..say ur client was hit by a UFO ,which turns out to from a planet which exists right next to earth,but we cannot to see thanks to our ability to see only in so many Ds..but that thing manages to find a way..ur client visited that planet and finds it worth polluting and so decides we need to send the communalists there..

  10. hahahaa…. πŸ˜€ I am officially starting m.f.c.- mirrocracked fan club!!! YOOOOOU SUUUUUKKK so bad!! πŸ˜‰

  11. What freakin went wrong with that comment above? :s πŸ˜•

    Anyways I’ll try again!

    The moment I read this I got to know there was something fishy πŸ˜‰

  12. 😐 Sorry! I’m not trying to SPAM dude. I’m quitting! Anyways this was supposed to be inside the blockquote “Once upon a time, I was in love with a strange girl from Hawaii.”

  13. hehe.. i had figured out it was made from “You Suck” .. so saw it coming .. but must say,it was the most hilarious story i’ve ever read ! πŸ˜€

  14. @Archie
    LOL… Yeah! It’s Hawaii, baby! Anything for an hawaiian chick! πŸ˜€

    Damn! I can’t fool you, can I? πŸ˜‰

    LOL… Happens! Life’s filled with a lot of uncertainties! πŸ˜‰

    LOL… I guess not! πŸ˜€
    But I like stating obvious facts! Hehe!

    Mystery, my dear! πŸ˜€

    Hmmm… then I’d not be a human, right? I’d be something sub… πŸ˜€

    Nope… No past connections with Hawaii…!! πŸ˜€

    Oh wow! Nice!! πŸ˜€

    Hahahahaha!!! πŸ˜€
    You’re messiing up your languages, dude! πŸ˜€

    Hehehe!! thanks!! πŸ˜€

    @La Vida Loca
    Hehehe!! Maybe! Good try! πŸ˜€

    Thanks dude! πŸ˜€

  15. It was a fiction because
    //Once upon a time, I was in love with a strange girl from Hawaii.
    – was too much to digest! πŸ˜›

  16. A Love scratch will be called Pricky. He he πŸ™‚ Nice Imagination. Wondering how many people really come from Hawaii to Bangalore, I mean usually people go to Hawaii.

  17. Try it out!!1 You probably could get hired by Mills & Boons…hahah!! I really thought I was reading one of their lovvveeryy dooveeyy chapters..! Btw, nice description of Yuu Suck walking out of the airport!!! πŸ™‚

  18. @stalker.. start stalking him πŸ˜€

    @girl.. what happened to the poor soul ? the Hawaiian girl..

    May be the scratch is called mickey ? or may be hitch-key ?

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