The story of a caring taxi driver, which amused me Bashny.Net

Not all taxi passengers love to hold a conversation with taxi drivers. Many try to remain silent as the heroine of todayís story on the Website, which, however, it failed, and here's why.



Once after work I called a taxi. Time — morning (clinic work). And, as usual, when you come home from work much later, and the works are not paid, hungry, annoyed and with a mute question in mind "what exactly am I doing up this late", concocted a pained face and I sit down in an old but clean Volga.

The driver was an elderly man. Realizing my tragic face that I am a victim of all misfortunes of fate and are unlikely to be the hot companion, began to talk with more prospective. "Oh, all young, pouty lips, forever go sour..."

— It's great, but can we go? — in an attempt to interrupt the flow of flattery asked me.

In response, he just killed me with a test phrase:

— And we're not going until the back sits a melancholy! Maybe you there is something sneaky conceive?!

— You offer me out? — I retorted.

— No, I suggest you smile! And then I realize that it's the police sentiment, the officer retired from the Department of celebration, a veteran of the laughter... but not on that attacked.

— I'm hungry don't smile!

Until the end not wanting to make contact, watching, panting as he reaches into the glove box:

— So-so-so that I then daughter-in-law made the cake... you?

— No! You what?!

— With salmon!

— No, I can't, thank you.

— Maybe a pie with meat? But it's dry, his granddaughter was doing.

— No, thank you.

— No? And I will.

And, as if nothing had happened, unrolls his bag and takes out his belongings as though we are gathered here on the occasion of a picnic. In the cabin bottled the smell of baking, the flavor of butter without warning hit directly in the nose and the stomach begins a treacherous growl.

— With salmon, you say?

— Yes, here gathered in-law, she's a good girl. From the North brought the fish.

Mm... Cool... Sorry, can I still slice?

Ha! — with a triumphant smirk triumphed grandfather. Here, of course.

And gave me a bag rustling with pastries, and there... As inventory at the year of famine — candy, cakes, some packages of sausage. Chose the most humble and with shame on my face, beginning to eat.

And you know what? It was quite tasty. With Santa we got sharing funny stories on a full stomach the conversation went, for which I am wildly grateful!

via pikabu.ru/story/taksistyumorist_4661839