Real stories from the life of taxi drivers. Taxi stories. Stories about taxi drivers. Erotic stories. funny stories. Such different meetings

Taxi stories.

Hi all! I think that all of you girls often use taxi services. Have you ever had any interesting, funny, or terrible situations with taxi drivers? If you haven’t been with taxi drivers, then you can tell us about the metro, or buses, or even planes.

I often take a taxi. Taxi drivers are normal, but sometimes they are not adequate at all. One day, one of them started complaining that his fiancée was cheating on him with everyone, but that wasn’t the point. The real point was that she was raped by her stepfather, and she was traumatized, so it was not her fault. I was shocked by such revelations. He also asked me not to get out of the car and listen to the end.

Once again I got into a taxi, and the guy was kind of strange. And the thought flashed through my mind that he was probably a sectarian - I’m lucky with sectarians. Well, a few minutes later he turned on the church howls and asked if I wanted him to tell me about God. I grinned and said that I thought that he would want to tell me about God. Next, he tried to tease me with the fact that I probably hadn’t read the Bible, and that wearing pants was a sin. I answered him that yes, I am aware of all this, I told him about God, and at the end I added, like, don’t judge, and you won’t be judged. It was funny that he was surprised that I knew everything perfectly well and that there was no way to treat me. Moral - don't judge people by their appearance and make hasty conclusions. I wrote it so briefly - I don’t like a lot of letters.

My husband drives taxis in the evenings, come on, tell me interesting stories about taxi drivers.

I took a taxi about 10 years ago. Why drive a damaged car with a driver from neighboring countries, if you can get into your super cool car and drive and enjoy it?

Classic. They quoted one price when calling a taxi, but upon arrival it changed dramatically. In Egypt. But when my fiancé and I bombed ourselves 3 years ago, there were always great stories there.

I've taken a taxi three times in my life, no incidents.

It’s annoying to explain to taxi drivers in Asia where I need to go. As a rule, they don’t speak English, and they don’t understand my memorized phrases in Chinese or Japanese either, so I always have to carry a piece of paper with my address. In principle, nothing particularly interesting happened, it happened, of course, that I poured out my soul to the taxi drivers, and then they poured out my soul to me, but this is the norm.

There are business class taxis for particularly picky clients, with good cars and neat-looking drivers

I was once driving a taxi, and the driver farted so much that my mascara ran. All.
Then I re-drew the face.

In the Stambul. I was driving home after work, I was tired, I couldn’t even walk, I got into the first car. We set off, which means the driver is turning on the music loudly, I ask him to turn it down a little. He says, no, I threatened him that I would go out and change the taxi, he immediately said “wait, wait, wait, I have something else for you.” And.. Turns on the discus ball in the car! Discus thrower, Karl! I drove off, having fun, and didn’t blather any more.

There was one time when they were rude. Like, you’re about to break the door, it didn’t open. It was not an accident, but a nightmare when I accidentally got into the wrong taxi.
I thought I wouldn’t come back alive.

Today again, Istanbul again, I got into the car, chewed a bun, and offered the driver a piece. He didn’t take it, but on the way he bought some tea for me in the car. Of course, I could have added something, but I trusted it, and everything was fine!

I always have fun with taxi drivers; sometimes they’ll ask me out on a date, sometimes they’ll tell me about their lives. They talked to one so animatedly about traffic rules that he didn’t notice how he drove through a red light and was stopped by the police. And one day I came across a very friendly elderly man - a taxi driver. He and I got to talking on the road. He gave his phone to watch a video where he reads his poems at the Lenin monument, for which he was given a bonus - 10 thousand 800 rubles. Then he announced that he was a good singer and for the rest of the way we sang the black raven.

One taxi driver told how he took his woman to the forest to teach him a lesson, and in general, in 15 minutes he managed to tell about all the women in his life, he was on drugs.

I argue with taxi drivers very often. Sometimes it almost comes to fights. In general, sometimes you come across such insolent drivers! Otherwise, the scoreboard is meaner, and they won’t pester you with conversations

Nothing special. A taxi driver of Caucasian nationality pulled up and offered a free ride in exchange for my phone number.

The most adequate taxi drivers, by the way, are men slightly over 40 years old and drive Toyotas.

Oh, I take a taxi almost every day, but there was an incident on a trolleybus! I’m driving home, so I approach the bus stop, stare at my phone, read my favorite forum, and then I notice that a seemingly diligent man is standing at the exit and waving his pussy. It was bitterly cold outside, but he simply waved again, tucked it back into his pants, zipped up his fly, and left. A curtain.

My friend and I had sex in a taxi. The driver almost flew off the road into a ditch. I'm a girl.

Once, due to ignorance of the language, they took me far, trying to take more money, and we still didn’t get a ride to work. I was screaming in wild rage and threw him as much money as the trip would actually cost. And at this time (it was near the tourist palace) another Turk opened the door for me and said “welcome to paradise”, I almost let his guts through this door.

Oh, just recently there was a woman taxi driver who looked like Yanka Adams and listened to criminal chanson.

Everywhere I find adventures for my ass. Once I came across the same taxi driver three times in a row; He started grabbing my hands and offering a bet: if he comes for me again, we’ll sleep together. I don't order a taxi from this service anymore.

Oh, just like that, I also left the entrance and got into the guy’s car, thinking that this was my taxi. He, of course, was stunned, and then I also felt awkward, because at his perplexed look I said, “what are we standing for, let’s go,” in the end they found out everything, and he still took me where I needed to go.

Today I was driving with a Georgian taxi driver, about 48 years old, and we sang songs and laughed.

I remember falling out of a club in my distant youth, at 6 in the morning the “wet asphalt” nine stops, there is a fierce trance sitting there, in clothes in the style of the movie “Pretty Woman”, fishnet stockings, a white wig, and so on. Probably two meters tall. But the phrase that killed me more was: “My pussies, where are you going?” - with an inimitable pronunciation. I sobered up.

I constantly take a taxi, many taxi drivers tried to pour out their souls to me more than once, sometimes I argued with taxi drivers because of the music. In general, in a taxi, I usually abstract myself from everything around me, otherwise I often come across chatterboxes and not everyone immediately understands that I’m not in the mood for conversations, but it seems like there’s nothing special. Although once a grandfather of about 60 suggested that if I let him hold my knee, I wouldn’t have to pay. I looked at him so much that he felt cramped in the car.

It was on the minibus. One day, my friend and I got very drunk and in the morning we took a minibus home. We sat forward to the driver, I sat closer to him. In short, I began to be completely knocked out, and I landed my head on his shoulder five times. It was so embarrassing afterwards.

And I noticed that almost all taxi drivers have Renault Logan, Deo Matiz, or Lada.

Once, on a business trip to Ivanovo, a priest, a good man, took me. He earns as much as he can, he wants to build his own parish, that’s why he works as a taxi driver. We had a heartfelt talk, good guy. But the coolest taxi drivers usually take you from the airport. There was a taxi driver in Moscow who offered to make money with electronic money, spent about 40 minutes trying to persuade me to come to a seminar on nanomoney and blah blah, promising that I would get rich. Another said that in the 90s he worked as a bartender, and he was included in the Guinness Book of Records for making the largest cocktail and also said that he found a suitcase with money in the subway.

Well, one day I vomited on the bus.

In general, with the emergence of such services as get-taxi, commander, and so on, it has become easier. If something is wrong, I immediately call the dispatcher and complain.

You also talk to taxi drivers! I'd rather put headphones in my ears so I don't have to listen to this bullshit.

Taxi drivers always talk to me about their lives, complain about something, pour out their souls, apparently they feel that I am a psychologist by training. And once a taxi driver really scared me. I get into the car, close the door, and he says to me: “Do you want to ride for free?” I went nuts. I sit and think, maybe I should call the police, or run away. And then it dawned on him how it sounded. He started laughing and said: “The dispatcher made a mistake with the address, I’ve been looking for you here for about 20 minutes.” Oh, how I was relieved then!

On the train, in a compartment, there were three of us: below me and a man about 50 years old, above a guy about 20 years old. The man went straight to the restaurant. We went to bed. I hear a man come back at night, I tell him, open the door a crack, otherwise it will be stuffy. He agrees, like, now I’ll change clothes and leave the door ajar. A couple of minutes have passed, he tries to open the door slightly and it doesn’t work. He screams in fear that the conductor has closed us. I got up to help, the door opened slightly, light came into the compartment, I saw this freak sitting without panties.

I stood at the bus stop, waiting for the last bus. Besides me, there were two more people who needed to go to the same area, but there was no bus. I decided to call a taxi, those two also didn’t know what to do, she offered to go with me, they got there well, then they scraped together the taxi driver’s fare, the guy turned out to be a good guy, he took all three of them home, we had a fun ride.

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A story happened to me the other day. Not quite like a taxi, but still interesting. I went to visit late in the evening. I'm standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus. An SUV pulls up and stops in front of me. The driver unbuttons his pants and invites me into the car. I turned away, I thought he would leave. Naive! I’m standing there, it’s not leaving, I turn my head, and there the work is in full swing. Well, I moved away from the car, closer to the people. Still worth it. Here's my route. I sit down, leave, exhale. I’m driving, I turn my head, and he’s driving near my window without stopping his satisfaction. I start to drive him and give him pleasure with all sorts of gestures, in the end I show him, will he give me money? Having received a positive answer, I indicate that I am getting off at the next stop. He is on the gas to meet me, and I am a dynamo.

Once I got into a taxi, I roared, we talked for a long time. Let's go for a little drive. We drove under some bridge who knows where, and the taxi driver started smoking weed through a bottle. I smoked and we chatted again. Then we drove closer to my house, and he took out a hairdryer, started making paths, and the parish came normally like that. We rode with him for 3 hours. Didn't take the money. In general, there are many stories with taxi drivers. I take a taxi every day.

The sectarian taxi driver sold me his books while we were driving!

The funniest incidents with taxi drivers were when I, in my youth, felt sick while walking after going to clubs.

I confess, the same thing happened once. Vomited like a fountain after the club in Tansi. It’s terribly embarrassing, but what should I do?

One day my grandmother and I were riding in a taxi through a store. I was about 15 years old.
Grandma went to the store, and I sat with the driver. And he says, “Now I’ll show you something.” I took out a box of leg shaving gel, and while my grandmother was away, I shaved my entire household!

An acquaintance told me a terrible story: at night in the cold, God knows how long he waited for a taxi, finally an impressive guy arrived: under fifty dollars, a goatee, an earring in his ear, rings on his fingers. In general, the guy looked at him predatorily and carefully all the way. The acquaintance was not completely sober, and decided that he was worried that he might vomit in the salon. Not so. As they began to approach the entrance, the taxi driver became more active - his hand crawled to his fly. The friend went nuts, fidgeted, let’s count out the money, and the guy smiled at him and stroked his fly. According to a friend, everything seemed to work out with standard payment, but for some reason he refused to call the company and complain.

Okay, when you’re young, it happens to everyone that you feel sick in the car after a club, this New Year’s Eve I asked to stop a taxi 3 times on the way home.

When I was young, I worked as a flight attendant (in common parlance, a flight attendant) and then we had a flight to Krasnoyarsk. I was responsible for the blankets and pillows. We took off, 15 minutes passed after takeoff, and I went to distribute them. They were kept in bags in our oxygen compartment. I open the door and there is a bunch of shit on bags. I go tell the senior flight attendant about this, he doesn’t believe me, and we go look at the shit together. It was someone who, within 15 minutes of takeoff, was able to climb there (and the door to these bags is next to the doors to the toilet) and, having climbed onto them in the “eagle” position, crap the entire takeoff. Here's a passenger! Upon arrival, the technical service to whom I handed over these blankets looked at me as if I had done the dirty, so as not to carry them away.

I have a lot of such stories. Once I was driving with a crazy driver. He was having a dialogue with himself. Like talking on the phone. And he was still indignant from time to time. I thought he was in the earphone, but when I listened to this nonsense, I immediately asked him to stop. But the best part was that it was a training machine, and there were other functioning pedals under my feet. They brought the man. Not funny, but scary.

I worked as a guide for 2 seasons, there are a lot of different stories, some funny and some not so funny. What I remember most was when passengers were robbed at the station because they didn’t close the compartment, and they blamed me, like, I gave the tip. And there was also a passenger who kept throwing wedges at me for half the flight, I was freezing, and then he came and started complaining that his fiancée kicked me out.

I often take a taxi, practically all the time. But somehow there weren’t any special cases. I always sit in the back and control the process.

One day on May 8th there was a race on Lenin Avenue in honor of the holiday, and in this area I had to pick up a camera from the workshop, I got some work done, but I was also late for practice, and I had to go to the other end of the city for about 30 minutes, I decided to call a taxi and so that you can pay without cash. While I was talking, I heard a man in the background and shouted that taxis couldn’t come here. He called his friend, a taxi driver, he snuck through the yards, took me home, we exchanged phone numbers and started talking. Now this is my husband!

5 years ago, my friend and I were waiting in the morning after the club for the metro to open. A foreign car stops and offers a ride - the amount is not large, like, along the way. Moreover, I had previously met this guy alone in a company. He recognized me and, in a friendly manner, offered me a ride home for a small extra fee. At first we drove normally, then we turned into a back street and got out of the car and began to climb into the back seats. I started yelling, and there was just a student dormitory there - and two guys and a girl, apparently they were walking by, came up to the car to find out what had happened. And they walked me to the metro. Tough, in short!

We were taking a taxi, and the taxi driver was smoking weed and offering it to us.

Whoa. And I thought that they were stopping just to bomb, but that’s what it turns out. In general, I was surprised that the guy was young, even attractive and quite presentable. And his arm span was not small, is that what people are missing?

Apparently, he likes the process of violence itself. The guy who gave me a lift, firstly, we still knew each other and through mutual friends I could find out his address and last name. Secondly, with a new BMW, if I had the money, I could pick up a prostitute. But, apparently, what they want is physical and moral violence - in general, the head is in disarray.

Usually taxi drivers start asking about nationality, then about gender. One of them actually killed someone recently, he said, “You’re 16 years old, my son is 19 years old, would you like me to introduce you?” I said: “Uncle, I’m 23,” he was stunned.

I had a similar story. It’s also a nice big car, and I was about 17 years old, and I was walking the dog. I was walking along the sidewalk, and two men cut me off in this car. I was ready to run as if I were on my heels. Then it turned out that these two were running a store with us. I really regret that I was young and didn’t write a statement. And although, why should she, our legislation is not great.

It was in China. The driver tried to cheat with money, they have a meter in the taxi, and in China there is such a trick that the driver can press a button and the money rolls in faster, they do this with foreigners. Like, we're idiots and everything's fine. We were traveling with friends, I know Shanghai perfectly and I know how much it costs to get there and which way. At first he started driving by another route, he ignored all requests to go along the short road known to me, then the money quickly began to accumulate, and we didn’t even drive half the road. As a result, we shouted at him, the taxi driver stopped the car and we got out without paying him, but for what the hell? He didn’t deliver, and the amount was huge, in the end he grabbed my friend, started pushing her into the car, pushing her, and so on, we got into a fight with him, called the police, spent the whole night in the police, clarified everything. In the end, even the beating was removed, because the driver grabbed his girlfriend’s hand until she bruised, he was deprived of his license, and moral damages were also attributed. When we left the station, I had never heard such swearing in Chinese.

I also had to taxi and have my own stories.
1. I pick up a woman in the evening. She needs to go to the other end of the city. As we drove away from the entrance, I saw one jeep turn on its headlights and follow us. Let's go, she asked to take a slightly longer route. Sure, not a problem. And the jeep behind us, out of curiosity, turned almost in the opposite direction - it was behind us. Well, Auntie, it’s none of my business, because it’s clearly not me, but someone is watching you. She got really scared and asked to tear it off. Don't bother doing it. I circled around the city a little and to her house. They dashed off 300 rubles... But I have no money. WTF?!?! Why did you get in the car? In the end, I just kicked her out, and she went and got involved again.

2. I pick up the guy and the girl. Monday evening. They want to go to the sauna, but finding a working sauna at this time is not easy. The guy simply said “let’s go to all the saunas,” but really, why bother calling? It's easier to hire a taxi and drive. What's my business? We begin to ride from establishment to establishment. Near the sauna, a guy gets out and goes to investigate. At this time, the girl is having a sort of intermittent conversation with me. First of all, she asked my opinion, did I see anything wrong with the fact that she was going to the sauna with a guy like that? I don’t see, he answered her, what’s wrong with that? - And the fact that I’m his girlfriend best friend? - this is more interesting, but not my business.
The culmination was the fact that she left me her phone number (I didn’t ask her for this at all) with a request to call back, but if the guy answered, to say that he had the wrong number....

3. Morning, night club. Guy and girl again. He very persistently persuades her to continue the tete-a-tete banquet, but the girl refuses, she is very tired, she wants to sleep, come on another time, come tomorrow at lunch. The guy tried to the last, but alas and ah. They drove her to her house and, saying goodbye, he finally asked her, “By the way, what’s your name?”

4. Late evening, a group of girls, flushed with champagne, pile into the car and I begin to deliver them to addresses in various parts of the city. They are having fun, joking, telling how great they had it at the birthday party of a good guy, the last one remains, she is the furthest away from everyone, but then... Take me back. I didn’t give him the main gift) Okay)

5. Another group of girls. But this time sober. And I really really liked one of them, she sat behind me, we started talking along the way, and I expressed to her my wish to meet in a more relaxed atmosphere. She said something like “maybe” and, already getting out of the car, said “call.” What about the phone? And she ran away. I sighed and drove on. The next day I was cleaning the car, started wiping the windows and... I saw that on the glass there was a phone number written on the condensation, half of which I had already successfully wiped off ((((

Photo: official website

We are sure that each of our readers will have their own funny story that happened in a taxi. A journalist from the ZagraNitsa portal interviewed three taxi drivers and collected funny cases related to foreigners in Moscow

As a rule, such cases occur abroad, and if the taxi driver and the tourist do not yet understand each other, or understand each other with difficulty, the percentage of getting into an awkward situation increases exponentially. But, fortunately, there is a way out of any situation. The main thing is to show resourcefulness, which taxi drivers are not short of. Stories of taxi drivers in our material.

Evgeniy has been working at City Taxi for 6 years, with a total experience of 35 years.

The incident happened a week ago. I met the client, we got into the car and headed off. The destination was the hotel "" on Tverskaya. We have already entered the city, driving along the Leningradskoye Highway. And then the client asks me to stop, supposedly we have already arrived. At first I didn’t understand what was going on - it was still a long way to the hotel. Then it turned out that the client had a booklet with him, which contained a photo of the hotel. He just saw a similar building. I explained to him that this is not the right place and we are moving on. You should have seen his face: he was very scared, probably decided that it was a kidnapping or something similar. So, silently squeezing himself into a chair, he sat the whole way. But when we got to the hotel, his joy knew no bounds.

Alexey, has been working at City Taxi for 2 years, with a total experience of 12 years.

I once met the Germans at Vnukovo airport. I had a sign with their names, I knew the number of the gate from which they were supposed to leave, the time of arrival - a standard situation. But there were still no clients. I waited for some time, then called our control room, and it turned out that the tourists left through a different gate. It was problematic to call them because I don’t know German. I had to walk around the airport with a sign, approach other foreigners in the hope that they would be my clients. Some were perplexed, others for some reason were very scared. Apparently, they thought that I wanted something from them. For some reason, the clients decided not to stand in one place and also went looking for me, so we probably missed them more than once. After about forty minutes of wandering around the airport, we finally found ourselves safely.

There was another funny incident. I was picking up a tourist from China from a hotel in the center of Moscow and encountered a language barrier. She spoke English very poorly: she didn’t understand what I told her. But I knew the destination and delivered her there safely. The problems started when she tried to pay me with a five thousand note. I didn’t have change, and I said so. The client didn't understand me. I typed this phrase in English on the phone and showed it to her - she didn’t understand. I had to use Google translator from Russian to Chinese. Fortunately, it helped.

Mark, has been working at City Taxi for 3 years, total experience - 5 years

I have been working as a driver for five years, of course, I also had to drive foreigners. The situation with English is like this: I can hear what the British and Americans say quite well, but if a non-native speaker speaks to me in English, problems begin. There was a case when I arrived at the airport to order, and the flight my client was flying on arrived much earlier. As it turned out later, he mixed up the arrival time.

It was not interesting for him to stand in one place for so long, and he went for a walk around the airport. So the client was no longer at the agreed meeting place. We got on the phone, but a problem arose: we understood each other’s English very poorly. Still, we managed to meet, although it was very difficult to explain where I was waiting for him.

It didn't end there. The client needed to change money, but the currency exchange office at the airport was closed for a break. A man immediately approached us and offered to exchange currency, and my foreigner was already ready to do so. I managed to dissuade him, and the “money changer” immediately disappeared, casting a withering glance at me. I told the client that we could find an exchange office in the city. Did not work out. The Sberbank branch in Nagatino, where I took him, was also closed. I had to go to the center.

A rapist taxi driver - a real life story. Someone's heavy body fell on me and pressed me to the hood of the car.

I hadn’t seen Ritka for a good ten years, and she easily managed to drag me to visit. It’s clear: over coffee and endless “Do you remember?” time flew by unnoticed, and when we, having come to our senses, looked at the clock, it was already the beginning of twelve.

A former classmate began to persuade me to spend the night with her, but I had a bloody nose and needed to get home: a corporate party was planned the next day, and I had to come to the office in the morning in “dress uniform.”

Ritulya sat for about fifteen minutes, glued to the phone, trying to call a taxi for me, but to no avail: some numbers stubbornly responded with short beeps, while on others the dispatcher reported that there were no available cars at the moment.

Okay, I’ll catch a car on the street, I thought out loud, pulling on my raincoat.

“Don’t even think about stopping a private owner,” my friend admonished me, “wait for a taxi.” Better yet, stay with me,” she offered for the tenth time, and I refused for the tenth time.

Kissing Ritulya goodbye, she went outside. As luck would have it, the weather took a turn for the worse: it became sharply colder, the wind reached under the thin cloak with icy paws and forced the chilly ones to dance in place.

At first I was going to follow my friend’s advice and waited for a taxi to appear. Then she got so cold that she began to stop every approaching car, but they all rushed past.

Finally - lo and behold! - one slowed down. And on the roof there is a comb with checkers: if you’re lucky, then in everything! She opened the back door: “Good evening, can you give me a lift to Lermontovskaya?”

Sit down…

Taxi driver rapist - real life story

The cabin was warm, music was playing faintly. I made myself comfortable, blissfully stretched out my cold legs, looked at my watch: great, I’ll be home at about a quarter to twelve.

Where exactly on Lermontovskaya? - the driver asked without turning around.

To the twenty-sixth house. You know, there's a grocery store nearby?

You can’t cross Pervomaiskaya, the sewerage system there has burst, and repair work is currently underway. You can take a detour along Timiryazevskaya, but it’s a big detour. If you don't mind, we can go straight through the park, it will be faster.

“I don’t mind,” I said, fighting against drowsiness (I was exhausted in the warmth, and began to feel uncontrollably sleepy). The music was replaced by a voice-over announcer.

The news has begun, the taxi driver said. -Can I turn it up a little louder? “What a pleasant, well-mannered person,” I thought gratefully.

Another would have lit a cigarette and increased the volume without asking. And I would gladly go on a detour in order to rip off more money from the passenger. I was lucky with the driver...

Rain is coming. The drops rhythmically knocking on the roof of the car completely lulled me to sleep. Suddenly the taxi stopped. So sharply that the brakes squealed. The driver cursed under his breath.

Sorry, it came out. It looks like the tire is flat, I’ll have to put on a spare tire... - he explained, but when he saw that I was about to open the door, he waved his hand: - Stay in the car, why do you need to get wet in the rain? Don't worry, I'll quickly...

I heard him open the trunk with a crash, and I leaned my head back on the seat again. For some reason I didn’t want to sleep, I just rested and relaxed. After about five minutes I thought that it was time for him to finish his work, after ten I got nervous, after fifteen I decisively opened the door and got out of the car.

The trees were rustling all around, rare headlights flashed in the distance, but not a single lamp was on in the alley where the car stopped.

It was so dark that I couldn’t even see my outstretched hand.

Hey! Respond! Where are you? - I called the driver, but no one answered me.

I pulled the collar of my raincoat tighter and walked around the car. There was no sign of a taxi driver! I was seriously scared. “Maybe he just went into the bushes to relieve himself?” - I tried to calm myself, but the fear did not go away, but only grew with every moment.

Hey!!! Respond!!! - I screamed.

Suddenly someone grabbed my hand. I have never experienced such panicked, almost animal horror in my life. She could neither call for help nor resist. In these moments, which seemed like an eternity to me, I was like a rag doll - fear completely paralyzed me.

I felt someone’s heavy body pressing me against the hood of the car, and a wet paw crawling under my skirt! Feeling someone else’s wet palm on my thigh, I seemed to wake up and began to struggle like crazy. Taxi driver rapist?

She also screamed so heart-rendingly that it was a miracle she didn’t tear her vocal cords.

One of the rapist's palms was still wandering along my leg, making its way higher and higher, while the other roughly pressed my mouth. I mumbled, trying to bite the hated hand, scratched like a wild cat, but with every second I understood more and more clearly: the forces were not equal and I had almost no hope of salvation.

Blessed be the word “almost” - it leaves a person at least the slightest chance. And I did not fail to use it: having contrived, I grabbed the rapist’s wrist with my teeth.

Out of surprise, he loosened his grip for a moment and I, obeying the instinct of conservation, hit him with all my might in the groin with the toe of my boot. The man howled in pain and fell to the ground, and I, rolling off the hood of the car, began to run.

Being a non-athletic person, I never went to the gym; I never got more than a C in physical education classes at school. But now she ran in such a way that she could easily give a head start to a qualified athlete.

There was a sharp stabbing in my side, my breathing began to become difficult - after all, it’s difficult to set records without preparation. But then steps thundered behind me, and I ran with tenfold energy. Faster, even faster...

She rushed without making out the road, breaking straight through the bushes. Branches lashed my face, thorns wounded me until I bled. But I didn't notice the pain: when it's at stake own life, you don’t pay attention to such little things as abrasions and scratches.

And the footsteps behind me became louder and more distinct. It seemed to me that I could already hear the maniac’s breathing. Now he will catch up with me and then...

Then, behind the foliage of the bushes, headlights suddenly flashed. I made a desperate dash and jumped onto the road, right in front of the approaching car.

The squeal of the brakes and the driver's choice swearing were the most wonderful sounds I have ever heard. "Help!!!" - I screamed, pulling at the locked car door.

Where are you going, you tattered goat! - the driver yelled back. - Tired of living?

A maniac rapist is chasing me!!! Save!!! The guy in the car twirled his finger at his temple and said: “Crazy! The fool is crying for you” and... he rushed away.

Two or three more cars rushed by. Seeing the headlights, I rushed onto the roadway, almost falling on the hoods of passing cars, but none of the drivers even slowed down.

Then the cars suddenly stopped appearing within sight, and in the moonlight I saw that a black shadow had separated from a tree on the other side of the road and began to slowly approach me. “Nooo!!!” - I screamed and rushed senselessly along the side of the road, not knowing where to run.

And the dark figure was already very close... The Guardian Angel appeared in the form plump woman middle-aged, driving an old Zhiguli.

Girl, are you okay? - she asked, stopping next to me and opening the front door.

I first jumped into the cabin, slammed the door, locking it with a button, and only then answered:

No, I'm not okay. I was attacked by a maniac rapist.

The woman gasped in fear and pressed the gas pedal all the way. I instinctively looked back. The dark silhouette loomed on the road for some time, and then disappeared behind the trees of the park.

We drove in silence for several minutes. Then my ability to think came back, and fear came again: “Where is she taking me? Why didn’t you even ask where to drop me off?” - Having burned myself on the milk, I blew on the water.

As if reading my thoughts, the woman explained: “There is a hospital not far from here. You need the help of a doctor..."

No need to go to the hospital! Take me to the nearest police station.

The sergeant on duty at the checkpoint turned out to be smart and caught the essence from a few of my chaotic phrases. He immediately called someone and asked me to go up to the second floor to room No. 27.

A gray-haired man in civilian clothes pointed me to a chair and listened attentively to the confused story, making notes in a notebook. Then, seeing my condition (my hands were still noticeably shaking), he offered me water, tea, coffee, valerian and cognac...

I refused everything, but asked if I could wash my face somewhere.

In the toilet. It's at the end of the corridor...

I nodded gratefully to the policeman and ran towards the exit, but stopped halfway, dead in my tracks.

Do you remember anything else?

Lord, taxi driver!!! How could I forget about him?! The rapist, before attacking me, was probably the driver... He hit me on the head with something heavy and dragged him into the bushes, because he wasn’t near the car. Maybe he’s still lying there... What if he... him... in general... - I fell silent, afraid to voice my terrible assumption out loud.

Don't worry. We immediately sent a squad to this park.

Can you contact your colleagues? You see, this taxi driver... It’s all because of me... Please... The policeman poked his finger at the buttons of his mobile: “Oleg, where are you? Have you examined everything? Did you take a dog handler with you? Yes. It's clear. It's clear. Lights out..."

“No one was found at the scene,” he turned to me.

Cars too. It is unlikely that the rapist stole her. Let's hope the taxi driver left on his own. And since he was able to get behind the wheel, it means his life is not in danger. By the way, do you remember the taxi number?

I shook my head.

What about the make of the car? - he asked.

Unfortunately, I don't understand this at all. I only remember that the car was black. Or maybe dark blue or dark green...

Let's clarify once again how the rapist was dressed.

I only remember a light shirt with short sleeves.

In this weather - a summer shirt? - the operator said doubtfully.

You do not believe me?

I believe it, I believe it... It's just strange. Do you remember any other details? And signs... Not only the criminal, but also the taxi driver - he is the main witness, we would like to find him...

The taxi driver was wearing a gray windbreaker and a black baseball cap: He spoke with a barely noticeable lisp. Oh, I just remembered... On his hand... - not the driver, the one who attacked me - there was a mole, right here, between the thumb and index finger.

The next day I called work and asked for a week's leave - I needed to recover. During the day I held on, but as soon as it got dark outside the windows, fear came over me.

At night I had nightmares. I didn’t leave the house for three days, then I had to - it was my daughter-in-law’s birthday.

Zhen, when are you going to go home? - asked Igor, my cousin.

No later than six, so what?

Let's go together. I have a business meeting in your area today.

I was happy: next to my strong athletic brother, I would not be at all afraid to return home. When we left the entrance, I saw a taxi near the porch.

“I called it,” Igor said, heading to the car. “I need to look over some papers, I’ll sit back, and you go forward.”

To Lermontovskaya? - asked the taxi driver. I shuddered - I immediately recognized this burry “r”. And a windbreaker and a baseball cap. Thank God, alive and well! Then I still didn’t realize that my rapist was a taxi driver.

I wanted to ask him what happened to him after I went out to change the tire, and suddenly I saw... a mole between my thumb and index finger and a strip of plaster in the place where my teeth had sunk into the rapist’s wrist...

Now the criminal rapist taxi driver is in prison and will remain in prison for a very long time (it was proven in court that he raped six women in the same park before me), and I am finally sleeping peacefully.

Taxi driver rapist in the park - a real life story

2015, . All rights reserved.

Basically, it went like this... About eight years ago or something like that, my older cousin worked as a taxi driver. Everything is as it should be - taximeter, checkers, walkie-talkie. Audi-100 from the late eighties, gas cylinder in the trunk. Looking ahead, I will say that there is quite a lot of space in the trunk, despite the cylinder, even despite my 1.9-meter height. :) End of summer, still warm, few challenges, nothing to do. I'm riding with my brother. The city is small, as soon as I order, he drops me off in the center of the city, he has dispersed the crowd, he picks me up, we go crazy further. Here and there, here comes the evening, here comes the night. After a couple or three such plantings, I feel it’s getting colder. It’s no good, brother, I say, I’m freezing, however. And the rain began to drizzle. I barely had time to say anything when the door creaked quietly... Call! The bro opens the trunk, and there is some gear and some blankets from a recent fishing trip. Get in, he says. It’s supposedly warm, dry and all that :) I’ll get along with a smile wider than my shoulders (wow, that’s cool). I tried to open it from the inside and it worked. And so, comrades, I’ll tell you, I settled down comfortably - I didn’t even expect it. In short, let's go... We reached the client quickly. Lie. I hear they're packing. The doors are slamming. :) Let's fly. I hear them crackling all over the car. We've arrived. They talk about something, but don’t come out. But I can’t hear it very well - the music is playing... Further from the words of my brother. I took two clients in total, a husband and wife, about forty years old or younger. Cheerful, the woman has a bottle of good wine with her, the man has an empty bucket. Dressed decently. The guy is trying to put a bucket in the trunk, no, I say, it’s busy, let’s go to the salon. While we were driving, we started talking, telling jokes, oh my. We've arrived. We're standing. And the woman then shoots - oh, he’s such a good guy, come on, have a drink with us. And she, hee-hee-hee, crushes her face. Why, it’s easy, I say open it. Then the guy in the back seat takes a breath - so, he says, you’re driving. So what? Now I’ll get the spare driver out of the trunk and go. Baba: hee-hee-hee... Don’t you believe it? Then the music becomes quieter, my brother opens the door (my trunk light comes on), I hear: - Driver... Driver... Well, I think my finest hour has come. I’m lying there, gaining courage. I’m already covered in snot from laughing, I’m almost tearing myself apart. In general, I missed a couple more calls, then I couldn’t stand it. I'll get it all out - here I am - I make an exhausted face, stick my head out the window, and knock on my wristwatch finger with the text: - Well, what the hell, I still have 20 minutes before my shift. I change my face to that of an offended one, climb back into the trunk and slam the “door.” The silence is deathly. The bro presses his face, the man slaps his eyes around, the hollow doesn’t say what it was. But the bro was not at a loss - why, he says, in “157” everyone drives like that. The man can already be carried out. Well done woman, she didn’t lose her head. -In "157"? And these can, he says, I’m not surprised at all. He comes out silently, picks the guy out of the back seat - and off he goes. We drive around the corner, I’ll help you out, and for about ten minutes we just cry... Think about it, brother, says my eldest, but they will tell this story to their children... And to friends... And to relatives...

P.S. This is not the end of the story!!! About two days later my bro calls me and nearly swallows his pipe with laughter. A colleague taxi driver arrived at the same address, the client, they say, was caught with some sick person, and before getting into the car, he asked to see the trunk...

I had to take one person home from the bar. I drove up to the entrance and waited. A girl comes out and gets into my car. But since I wasn’t waiting for her at all, at first I thought that she was with the person I was waiting for. And she looked at me calmly and said: “Well, why are we standing there? Let’s go!” I quickly realized that the fairly drunk girl had simply confused me with
taxi driver I was in a good mood and I decided not to break it off right away, but to make fun of her a little.
- Where we go?
- Lenin Street, building 45.
- Is there anything to eat at home?
- What?
- Is there any food?
- Eat. Why are you interested in this?
- I'm hungry, I want to eat.
- What?
- I'm very hungry
- What about me? I'm not going to feed you.
- Well then I won’t go anywhere.
- And why is that?!
- My religion forbids me to take money from people, I work for food.
- What other religion?! I have never seen such an impudent taxi driver! I will complain!
- To whom?
- To your superiors
- Yes please. You can call right now. Give me your phone number?
- I’ll call you! Give me the phone!
I dictate my number. The girl begins to nervously poke at her phone, and I, barely holding back my laughter, turn off the sound on my mobile so as not to burn myself out ahead of time.
- Nobody picks up the phone!
-Wait a little longer
- You wait, but I won’t wait!
The girl jumps out of the car, slamming the door loudly. I decide that if I’m going to be funny, then I’ll go all out, I go to “Unanswered” and dial her number.
- Hello. Did you call the machine?
- Yes
- Come out. The car arrived.
- I already got out, but your driver is a boor! Send a normal driver!
- They sent you an excellent driver, just give him something to eat.
- What?
- Feed him dinner, or at least buy him some ice cream.
- What nonsense are you talking about?
- This is not nonsense! This man does not take money, he works for food.
- I'm not going to feed him!
- Well, as a last resort, you can fill up his car. Explain to him that gasoline is food for his car.
- Yes, it looks like you all work there for food!
- How did you guess?
- No way! I will complain!
The girl hangs up. But the story doesn't end there. A couple of minutes later she calls back.
- Hello. Taxi?
- Yes
-Who am I talking to? I need someone from the authorities.
- You talk to the director, I listen to you.
- Your employees are terrible boors, I intend to sue you!
- What are you talking about?! Tell us in more detail, what happened?
- I won’t tell you anything. We'll meet you in court. What is the name of your taxi?
- "Hussars"
- Didn't understand.
- Our taxi is called “Hussars”. You probably remember this phrase from an old joke: “Hussars don’t take money”? So we don’t take money, we work for food.
- All! My patience has reached its limit! I'll definitely sue!
- Submit, but keep in mind that if we win the case, we will not demand money as compensation. You will have to feed and water our entire friendly male team for free on Fridays for a whole year in the most expensive restaurants in the city.
When I told this story to the man I was waiting for, he laughed for a long time. And then he asked what the girl looked like, asked for her number and started calling her.
- Hello. Girl, have you ordered a car? ... Why not with us? And from whom? ...What kind of car? ... You're probably confusing something, this is our car. Wait, he’ll arrive right now... Oh, are you on your way already? Well then, have a nice trip... Thank you for using the services of our taxi. Not just
forget to feed the driver! ... Helen, don’t shout like that. I told you that I was a good wizard, but you didn’t believe me. I said that I would still recognize your phone number, but you didn’t believe me. Did I say that we should spend this evening together? If I haven’t said it, then I’ll say it. Wait, honey, I'll be there soon!

Brest. Train Station. Glorious nineties. Taxi drivers are clustered at the exit of the station. A train arrives from nowhere (history has not preserved the train number). Suddenly, a person of Caucasian nationality appears from the door at the speed of a wildebeest and with screams and an accent shouts that he is late for the plane and there are 20 minutes left before departure (in those days many planes flew from Brest in different directions) and if someone is 10 minutes behind him takes you to the airport in minutes, you will receive as much as 100 dollars.

But as fate would have it, the airport and the train station are very far from each other and there’s no way you can get there in 10 minutes or even 20 (well, unless you have a Formula 1 car). But one crazy taxi driver asks: “Exactly 100 dollars?” In response he hears: “Yes, dear, here’s the money ahead!!!” The taxi driver says: “Well, let’s jump in and rush off.”

They rush at full speed through Brest (and anyone who has been to the city knows that within the city limits on Gavrilova Street there is a passenger plane on display, like a museum exhibit, and with a certain skill and if there are no screws, you can get there in 10 minutes).

After 10 minutes they are 50 meters from the aircraft-museum exhibit on Gavrilov. Taxit says to the son of the mountains: “Look, it’s still standing, run and rush to register.” Well, he took the bag and rushed faster than a cheetah to the museum with wings... For a month, the child of the mountains went to the railway station with the goal of finding and killing the reptile. But friends warned the bastard. The smoking room is still alive.

She worked as a dispatcher in a taxi. The order has arrived. A colleague dispatcher informs the client:
- Leave in five minutes. A blue metallic Mazda is waiting for you.
Further from the driver's words:
- I'm standing. I'm waiting for a client. A woman comes out of the entrance. She walked around the car twice, then carefully approached the slightly open window and asked:
- Are you blue Vitalik?

Conversation between Dispatcher (D) and Taxi Driver (T):
First hour of the night.
D: Is your trunk free?
T: Not really... But I can quickly release...
D: What do you mean? what do you have there?
T: Mmm... Partner...
There was silence.
D: What is he doing there????
T: Like what??? Sleeping!
After that, the laughter of other taxi drivers was heard...

There is a conversation between a taxi dispatcher (D) and a taxi driver (T), discussing an order from a veterinary clinic:
T: Royal, what if they take an animal there?
D: not excluded
T: what about an animal in the salon?
D: maybe they’ll take a hamster there?
T: why treat a hamster? They sell them in bags in the store!
D: I’ll probably tell you a terrible secret, but hamsters get sick too..))
T: this is how you have to love a hamster...

source: auto center

A few days ago I installed Windows for a friend of mine.....
Well, I stayed until late. A friend called me a taxi 062, I said goodbye and went outside.
I’m standing near the entrance, smoking and thinking about the admin’s everyday life…….
Then an ambulance arrives and stops next to me. I continue on my own wavelength - I don’t pay attention.....
The ambulance driver lowers the window and says:
- “Did you call a taxi?...”
Looking up from my thoughts, I couldn’t find anything better to say:
- "Yes".
(B) - “And where?...”
(I) – “What, where?...”
(B) - “Where is the client?...”
Then it dawns on me what the conversation is about, but out of interest I continue to play the fool...
(Me) – “Which client?...”
(B) - “Well, who called the car?”
(Me) – “Well, I called. What?...”
(B) - “Did you call yourself???”
(Me) - “Who else?!” Of course."
(B) – “Eeeee………..So everything seems to be okay with you…..”
(I) - “Nunikhrenase..... It was still not enough that something was wrong. Of course everything is fine!”
The doctor sitting next to the driver breaks down:
- “What kind of entrance is this???”
(I) – “Second”
(Doctor) - “Damn... Petro, we need a third!!!”
The ambulance moves on - I stand there smiling. They also have their own humor “…Did you call a taxi?…. »
So that's not all.
I see my car drive up, with 062 saber, and stop next to me.
I walk around the car to sit on the other side. I just grabbed the handle and he – brrryn…. and drove off...
I think maybe I went to turn around...
Nothing! He moved 10 meters and stopped. I’m fucking standing there, looking at him and he’s just standing there and won’t turn off the engine….
I walk up to the car - I just grabbed the handle - the door opens and some girl comes out. He closes the car door in front of my nose and disappears into the entrance...
Still confused, I try to open the door again, but the taxi driver hits the gas and runs off in an unknown direction...
Damn, what a mess!!!
After 10 sec. another car from service 062 appears - as you guessed it, it’s mine.
I sit down, say the address, and off we go. I hear on the radio that there were some powerful geomagnetic storms today... Maybe that’s why I was so slow???.....

A funny incident happened to a taxi driver and he was not very sober. married couple.
A call came to the cafe. I arrived. The man puts his wife in the back seat, says the address, and says something to her like: “Yes, dear, I’ll still be here, so don’t wait up early.” The taxi driver drove further down the road to turn around and, returning back past the cafe, he sees that the same guy is waving his hand, well, he thinks he’s forgotten something there. He stops, and a man without a fawn sits in the front seat and, talking on the phone, says into the phone, “Yes, I sent my mother, in general, wait for me, I’ll be there soon”...

I'm taking a taxi. We have fun talking with the taxi driver. Suddenly a woman votes on the road. It’s late, the taxi driver asks – can we pick you up if it’s on the way?
- Sure, not a problem!
We stop - it’s on her way. Well, she sits back.
At this moment, while continuing to communicate with the taxi driver, I tell him a good old joke.

A Russian and a Chukchi work at the plant.
A Chukchi worker comes to the director and complains that the Russian constantly insults him, calls him a fool, a blockhead, an idiot, etc.
The director calls the Russian and says:
- Why do you call the Chukchi a fool?
Russian:
“I’m not calling names, he’s really a fool.” Do you want me to prove it? So invite him here.
They invite you.
Russian:
- Chukchi, here are the keys to my house, run and see - am I at home or not?
The Chukchi takes the keys and runs away.
Russian to the director:
- Do you see? Well, he's a complete idiot.
director:
- Yes, really an idiot, I would have called first.

Told. Well, the driver laughed faintly. There is silence behind. Apparently she knew, I think.
We drive for about three minutes in silence.
And suddenly, unexpectedly, an indignant female voice came from behind:
- But not everyone at home has a telephone!!!

Soviet times. A woman driving is a rarity. And they had several working in their taxi fleet. One day she came home from her shift, and her ticket was all stained with a black felt-tip pen (also a shortage back then!), and with such force that it was even torn in several places. And the traffic police stamp is there.
They started asking: what happened?
It turned out that she tried to turn around at the intersection, well, she didn’t fit in (whoever drove the Volga will understand...) She drove back a little, turned around - and then the traffic cop slowed her down - reversing is prohibited at the intersection. Takes a ticket and makes a note...
The woman immediately rushes to the street of the Khokhlov Family - where the city traffic police is located in Kyiv, bursts into the regiment commander and slaps this permit on his table. He looks, turns purple, his glasses fog up... He immediately grabs a felt-tip pen, erases everything that is written there, puts a stamp and says: they say, go, and we will sort out our goat ourselves...
The entire taxi fleet probably laughed for a long time, remembering this story... What did the traffic cop write on the ticket?
Here's what: BACK BACK AT A CROSSROADS.

I hasten to tell you the following story that I recently remembered. I think you will like it. Read!

It was the third hour of my night shift. Neither shaky nor shaky, I work slowly. I heard my call sign on the radio - hurray, order! The dispatcher warns: “Don’t be surprised, drive, don’t be afraid. You’ll definitely get paid.” After such words, of course, I became interested, what kind of passenger was there? But the dispatcher is silent and doesn’t hesitate. Okay, I think I’ll come and see for myself. It is already suspicious that the call was not made to some address, but to a gas station located on the bypass highway.

I arrive: there is no one at the gas station. What the hell is this? Is it a joke? I ask the dispatcher: what does this mean? She laughs: go inside, say that you came on call. I do everything as the dispatcher asks: I go up to the operator and say that I am a taxi driver, I came on call. I see that he is also choking with laughter! And then... well, gee!

A naked middle-aged man comes out of the service room, covering himself with a newspaper. And I must say that it’s winter outside, ten degrees below zero! Yeah... Lucky man! I drive the car closer so that my smaller passenger doesn’t have to splash barefoot in the snow, I turn on the heater: let it warm up. Go!
On the way we started talking. It turned out that the man became a victim of his weakness, which he had for young beautiful women.

The day before I met such a pretty lady, although she turned out to be married, but she assured me that her husband was on a business trip in the neighboring region. And this beauty persuaded him to take a steam bath in the bathhouse... Everything turned out so well: Tolik (let’s call him that) convinced his wife of the need for an urgent late meeting, and the lady’s place of residence turned out to be quite far from the center, which excluded the possibility of a “puncture”.

In short, the lovebirds were steaming in the bathhouse, things had not yet reached the point of “debauchery” (why rush?), Tolik, according to Russian tradition, ran out to cool off with a snowball, and then it began... He noticed that five people were quietly making their way to the house, " bandit" look. Remembering that he was, after all, a businessman, and comparing some facts, the guy made the right conclusion: this is not a deceived husband, but just a setup. That is, before you notice, you need to move your feet! And he pulled with all his might, not feeling the cold! So I ended up at a gas station, where I was able to call a taxi.

I took him home and helped him justify himself to his wife (they told her something about the robbery, she seemed to believe it). Tolik left me a rather expensive ring as collateral, because... He had little cash at home, only bank cards.

The next day we called and Tolik paid me very well. Now he decided not to go out on the side anymore... with unfamiliar ladies: you never know!

I'm a taxi driver. I'm leaving this morning. The mood seems to be wow, the sun is shining, spring is felt. In the morning, my heart aches sweetly in anticipation of romance and here it is... a miracle... A stunning blonde with the figure of a goddess in a “mini bikini” is standing and voting. I stop, she opens the right front door, gracefully brings in her divine body and joyfully, without looking at me, says in a magical voice:

Hello.
“Hello,” I answer, slightly stunned and delighted at the unexpected familiarity.
- How are you, how are you feeling? - the fairy continues to enchant me.
- Nothing, thank you! - I happily support rapidly developing relationships.
“And I’ve been dreaming about you all night today,” my lovely passenger suddenly declared.

What could I answer in the face of an unexpected hormonal surge? I giggled stupidly and said a brilliant phrase:
- You know, I also had a presentiment of meeting you today.

Suddenly she looked at me with her little eyes in a strange and sad way and said into the void:

Sorry dear, I got into a taxi here, it’s not very convenient for me to talk right now, I’ll call you back later...

Oh, these modern wireless bluetooths all sorts of things to me.

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