You're Scaring Me

As we landed (from one of the worse flights I'd been on - the air-conditioning unit in our section was bust: it was just blasting freezing air noisily out of the trim on the ceiling, which was all cracked and smashed) I remembered that my key was probably not going to work as I’d used it to open those beer bottles at the Great Wall and I started to fret – how would I get in? 

Anyway, I put that to one side as I was suddenly more concerned that my luggage had gone missing - it was the very last bag off the lace, bastards. With my late luggage, I booked my cab back home with this scrawny little thing, whom I didn’t actually think was old enough to drive. 

Putting THAT to one side, I also didn't think he knew where he was going, as at every road sign he would slow right down and examine the way to Kuala Lumpur. I kept repeating to him to "go to Mont Kiara, via Sprint highway and probably MAJU express way" to which he just nodded.

Then he started driving really slow and then really fast on the highways, for no reason and swerving from lane to lane, speeding and slowing and basically scaring the shit out of me. At one point, a couple of cars tried to get passed by - but as he was all over the place, they couldn’t – so they beeped, which was my prompt to hit the back of his seat and tell him to drive properly as he was scaring me.

We nearly went into the central reservation shortly after that, so I told him to drive in one lane, the slow one, for the rest of the journey and just to keep heading towards Kuala Lumpur. I recognised the road we were on and directed him to Solaris Dutamas and then resisted the temptation to report him for dangerous driving.

I didn’t tip him, nor did I care if he crashed on his way back to the airport.