It's called duct tape. Use it!
The following is an account of my last taxi ride in this country. Ever. My cousin, on the other hand, will continue taking taxis, but just not with me. She is also reconsidering ever getting on the same tram, train, or airplane as me. Lucky for us both, I'm leaving soon.
My cousin and I were sitting in the back seat of the cab. She was talking to the passenger sitting in the front, the driver was randomly yelling out his window at other cars, and I was crocheting. I don't know how long the taxi driver had been yelling before I realized the yelling was directed at me, and there were also several additional seconds of confusion as I tried to figure out what he was yelling. I do speak the language, but it was hard to understand him over the cassette tape he was blasting and the noise coming through all the open windows as we drove down a busy road at about 60 km/hr (roughly 40 mph). I started to lean forward to ask him what he was saying when my cousin joined in on the screaming -- something about the door -- and started pointing over my shoulder. I turned around just in time to see my folders slide out the door, which was wide open and flapping in the breeze.
Of course there was the requisite moment of inertia while I incredulously watched the other vehicles on the road swerve to miss hitting the door, but then I decided it might be a good idea to pull it shut (which was what the driver had been yelling at me to do). I held onto the driver's seat with one hand, and reached for the door with the other, but it swung out of my reach as we went around a sharp curve. Not surprisingly, it got stuck instead of swinging back towards me. I yelled at the driver that he had to pull over, but he was intent on making things as challenging as possible and continued driving and yelling.
Although I hadn't gotten in from that door, and therefore wasn't responsible for it suddenly opening, I tried once more to pull it shut. This time, I leaned a little further and actually got my hand on it, but two things forced me to abort the mission: 1. I realized that getting the door unstuck and pulling it closed was going to require more force than I could safely apply without subluxating or dislocating my shoulder (as evidenced by the slipping sensation I was starting to feel in the joint.) 2. The top two buttons of my shirt had popped off.
I let go of the door before there was anymore popping of buttons or limbs, and sat back in my seat holding my shirt closed--thereby proving once and for all that all those Hollywood nip "slips" and wardrobe "malfunctions" are intentional. If I can keep my boobs inside a torn shirt, while hanging partially outside a moving vehicle, with the wind blowing past me, and two bad shoulders that preclude sudden or forceful movements, then surely celebrities can manage to keep themselves covered for the 5 seconds it takes to pose for a picture.
At that point, I let the driver know that he was free to drive all the way to our destination with the door open for all I cared. Seeing that I had indeed diverted my attention from the door to something else, he realized I wasn't going to lean out there a third time, and finally pulled over. My cousin asked him why he couldn't have just done that in the first place. I thought he was going to say there hadn't been any place to pull over, or that the other cars weren't letting him over, but no, he had a much better response:
"You expect me to pull over every time this happens?! If that's what you expect, then find yourselves another taxi!" he barked.
As much as we didn't want to stay in that taxi, we weren't in an area where we could easily stop another one. So, we continued to our destination while I held onto the door, hoping there wouldn't be any other malfunctions that he'd expect me to fix en route.
The next time I have to go across town, I'll be more apt to ride a camel than get into another freaking taxi.
Posted by Girl, Dislocated at 15:08
5 Comments:
Yup, you have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that "wardrobe malfunctions" can be prevented!
Glad you are okay! You are braver than I would ever be!
By 
Not a Granny, at
09:45
"You expect me to pull over every time this happens?! If that's what you expect, then find yourselves another taxi!"
There have been so many times I would like to have said something like this at work, but never do because...well I wouldn't be working any more..lol.
Glad to hear that you are surviving.
Your 911 Friend,
Chrissy
By 
, at
10:02
It's like Disney! Except more life-threatening.
By Avitable, at
09:41
Oh wow. They really have a compassionate way of dealing with costumers eh?
Mental note to NEVER take a taxi in Egypt. Thanks tips!
By Sarcastica, at
22:16
Not a granny - I knew this was the final missing piece of evidence the world needed! I don't know about being braver than you, but I doubt you or anyone could have done a worse job than me trying to get that door shut...
Chrissy - I don't know how you restrain yourself! Do you ever just go off on a caller with the hold button on?
Avitable - LMAO! I'll have to make that my mantra and repeat it to myself the next time I have to get on another transportation contraption.
Sarcastica - You'd think they'd try to keep their customers... unless they're just driving taxis for the thrill and don't actually need the money.
By Girl, Dislocated, at
00:26
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