Mr. Magoo

Mr. Magoo.  That’s the best way to describe our taxi driver.  We had just arrived at Termini train station in Rome.  We got into the taxi line and it wasn’t a long wait before we were in a taxi and on our way. 

Our driver seemed like a very nice older gentleman.  He was likely in his mid to late 70’s.  He had a thick head of white hair, was quite short, and had a nice smile.  He spoke no English.  He also could not drive.

This became apparent very quickly.  We didn’t get very far before he almost simultaneously ran someone over in the cross walk and almost got T-boned by another car.  He seemed somewhat oblivious to all the commotion and uproar he caused as there was a great amount of shouting and gesticulating going on, all aimed at him. 

Ernie and I nervously glanced at each other.  I started silently reciting the rosary.

Signor Magoo proceeds to drive at a very slow pace.  Much to the consternation of the young man on a Vespa behind him.  Through the open windows we started to hear him calling out to our driver.  I imagined it was something to the effect of, “Hey, drive faster, get moving you old man.  Why are you driving at all, you should be home playing checkers.”  He beeped.  Signor Magoo paid none of it any mind.  Just continued apace oblivious to it all. 

Until the Vespa driver was able to pass him.  The Vespa driver slowed down as he passed, in order to lean in and yell quite animatedly at our driver.  There were gesticulations with his one hand, thankfully keeping the other on his scooter.  It was a veritable verbal and body language barrage. While balancing a moving motor scooter.

Our driver responded back.  He had a voice that can only be described as a cross between Don Corleone and Charlie Day from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.   Our driver also used hand gestures to convey his feelings about the whole situation, which gave me some agita.  “Both hands on the wheel please, both hands on the wheel,” I thought to myself.  

One didn’t need to know the language to figure out what was being said. We’ve already established what the Vespa driver was likely saying. I imagined our driver said something in reply like, “ Hey, I’m driving here, what’s the matter with you, you in such a hurry, go ahead, go ahead and pass me you son of a cockroach.”

The Vespa driver gunned his scooter, and passed us, but not before turning his head back toward our driver with an angry glare that said, “I hope you drop dead.”

Well.  The excitement of that ride did not end there.  You might think, how could this get any worse?

Ernie had plugged our hotel address into the GPS on his phone.  At one point Ernie muttered under his breath to himself, turn left here, turn left.  He knew there would be construction ahead. Our GPS-less driver turned right. 

We then came to the road closure.  Signor Magoo sat there for a full minute, staring at it like it was some alien life form. The, in his Don Corleone/Charlie Day voice, started exclaiming things.  He gesticulated again, raising his hand up and shaking it.  He pointed to the closure, said some more things. Raised the hand again.  Shook his head and implored the powers that be to provide a little help.

Ernie was wishing the old man had a smart phone with GPS, while he watched the meter continue to run, and muttered again, “ turn left, turn left.”  He knew it would be impossible to convey this information to the driver given his lack of English and our lack of Italian. Google translate app notwithstanding.

Our driver turned right.  He went for a couple of blocks, hopeful that he was going to go around the closure.  But.  He was face to face with the closure yet again.  Rinse and repeat the exclamations and hand gestures.

Ernie continued his mantra, “turn left, turn left.”  And thankfully, Signor Magoo finally turned left.

From that point on there were no further incidents.  He just made his slow and steady progress, unimpeded by pedestrians in crosswalks, impatient young Vespa drivers, and road closures.

The cab fare came to 14 or so euro.  Ernie gave him 20.  We were thankful to have made it in one piece.  He was very sweet, if a bit oblivious, and he tried his best.  Hey, what more can you ask for?