How much racism can you cram into a 10-minute taxi journey? Judging by the experience I had yesterday, quite a lot.
I hopped into the back of a taxi at the rank outside Connolly Station to make the short journey to Adelaide Road in the south city. Within seconds I was subjected to the rantings of a man who, in another era perhaps, would have loved nothing more than donning a white hood for his weekly clan meeting.
It all started when I asked an innocuous question, thinking it would initiate the type of smalltalk typical of your average taxi journey. I enquired if the Amiens Street rank was good for getting regular fares, unwittingly unleashing a torrent of vile, racist comment.
"There are too many blacks using this rank in the evenings," he blithely informed me. "People won't get into the cars with them so they cross the road to get a taxi instead. If you're stuck behind them all the way back to Sheriff Street, this means the queue on the rank is very slow to move."
Shocked and appalled, I wondered aloud if people didn't get into cars driven by foreign nationals because they were racist.
"Not at all," he retorted. "It's because those black fellas don't know where they're going half the time."
He also claimed that many "coloured" drivers are involved in a scam, whereby one of them has the taxi licence but up to three of them share the driving duties. This means that some are driving without insurance, he helpfully pointed out.
We had barely crossed the Liffey when he offered an absurd and highly offensive theory as to why there are so many foreign nationals in Ireland.
"Do you remember when you were younger and they were always looking for money to help the black babies?" he continued, despite my obvious discomfort at where this conversation was going. "Now all those black babies have grown up and they've come over here to say thanks for the money."
I think this was intended as a joke but I can't be sure.
The car stopped at traffic lights at Baggot Street and I was tempted to jump out and walk away without paying. However, being already late for an important hospital appointment, I reluctantly made the selfish decision to stay put.
As we arrived at my destination, he had just finished telling me a yarn about a passenger who objected to being referred to as "coloured". She reasoned that "white" people turn blue when they're cold; turn brown when they get a tan; go red when they get sunburnt. Black people, she pointed out, stay the same. So, if anything, it's white people that could be described as "coloured".
He had dismissed her comments as a bit of banter but I reckon the woman was trying to make a point in the face of his blatant racism.
My 10-minute journey seemed like an hour. I got out of the car ashamed of my own inaction. My muted response was intended as a protest but may have been interpreted by him as indifference. By not speaking out, I was giving his racist views a voice. I should have taken his details and reported him to the regulator but I failed to do so. Not my finest hour, I have to admit.
We sometimes hear of the stereotypical taxi driver with a chip on his shoulder about foreign nationals and blatantly racist views. In my experience, though, most Dublin taxi drivers are decent individuals who are courteous, friendly and tolerant. As in every walk of life, it's the small minority that give everyone else an undeserved reputation. But as bad apples go, this particular driver was in a rotten barrel all of his own.
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