Blue ink: a taxi priced in va-comme-je-tousse

In the hollow of the Geneva summer, the girlfriend Laurence has a professional meeting with a lady of a certain age. Let’s call it pink. It’s hot. The weather is nice. They find themselves on a plainpalais terrace. Rose came by taxi from her house. The race cost him 15 francs. So. I have planted the decor for you. Not exciting, the decor, okay. But wait for the addition.

At the end of a big hour of chatter, Laurence offers Rose to call her a taxi for her return home. “I no longer remembered the power plant that I usually use. I looked for Google and called the first site on the list. The one on which any tourist falls when arriving in town. ”

Small corner

At the end of the line, the employee, not hyperstaged, covers long on her keyboard. Then request the destination of the race. Mystery: Rose left the table. She went to the little corner. “I tell him and repeat that I don’t know. Simply send a car, we’ll get better with the driver. ” Well, no, impossible. Where are you going? At the station? The airport? The flowery clock? You need an address, otherwise nothing.

“I insist that it sends a vehicle anyway. The girl still turns two leads on her computer and announces the amount of the race to me: 55 francs. ” Fifty-five balls !!! “I fall from my chair and ask her how she came to this completely eccentric amount. I typed 1201 Geneva, she replied, and that’s it. ”

Meanwhile, Rose has returned from the toilet. She gives her address. It’s in the Pâquis. Same postal code, therefore, a coincidence. The announced price then drops, from 55 to… 50 francs. Too kind. “We had just lost 10 minutes. The exchange was completely lunar. I told him that we were going to do without his services. ” Rose left with the taxi that brought her. The nice taxi. The taxi at 15 bullets, what.

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