It was raining and 40 degrees outside tonight. It's ok that it took you an hour and twenty minutes to get to my family, even though you quoted me at 15 minutes when I called. Shit happens.
It's ok that you were on the phone the entire drive and virtually ignored us, except getting our address. Even when I asked you to pop the trunk for my husband, standing in the rain, so he could put our stroller away. That's ok. Clearly, your phone call with your buddy about sports and sports stars is more important. Fine. Its cool that you're on the phone while you're driving even though it's illegal. Whatever. I just want to go home.
Hell, it was even ok when you turned onto the street parallel to ours and proceeded to drive two blocks past anything that could resemble a way to our house. Maybe you didn't realize it was back there. Ok.
What's NOT ok? When I finally say, "Um... Where are we going?" And you ignore me. Then I say it again, "Where are we going?" And my husband pipes in with, "Sir? Hello?" and you throw your phone down on the seat, glare at me in the mirror and say, "I'm on the phone. Sorry I forgot where I was going for a second. Sorry I deviated EIGHTY FEET FROM YOUR ROAD. I'm glad you pointed that out to me. Thanks." And then get right back on the phone.
Go to hell. Seriously. So good for my husband when he says right back, "I'm sorry you're on the phone and not paying attention to what you're doing. We paid to go home and HOUR and a half ago and we don't want a scenic tour while you remember where you are."
Like, I didn't say anything the entire fucking drive. But I have two kids who want to go home and go to bed and SO DO I. It's not my fucking fault instead of asking us to remind you where you were going, you chose to be an idiot and go the wrong way.
I have a sneaking suspicion the guy was high, and I'm glad I got out of the stupid taxi alive. Never again. Buses for me.