Many people have ridden in many cabs. I have been in two cabs that were pulled over by the police. I'm standing on Victoria Park at Adair Rd, beside the second one.
The first was a long time ago, on the way home (to Hamilton) from a party (in the back-woods of Oakville) after a night clubbing (in Burlington) where I picked up (she was hideous (my "friends" should have beaten me - or maybe her - with a crowbar to stop that pick-up action)). I ended up at this party with her with no money and no way home. I collected travel funds from drunk and stoned people and left with a borrowed sweatshirt (the party was outside and it was cold).
As we rocketed down the QEW at 130km/h, I asked my cabbie, "Do the cops ever bother you?"
"No," he said. "We do our job and they do theirs."
When the cop - an attractive woman - reached the driver side window she didn't give him the chance to ask what the problem was. She jammed her face in the car and snarled, "One twenty? I can accept 120. You blow past me at 30 over? Give me your license and registration!"
An hour later, approaching 5am, I drove the cab to Oakville (he had no license, registration or insurance - though he did have a court date for a DUI and another for a hit-and-run), and the next cabbie drove me to Hamilton for free. I ended up with $35, a sweatshirt, and a great story.
Today was much more blase, but there was a curious resonance. This cabbie was driving down Victoria Park like a manic. The cop pulled him over, angry, for going 20 over in a 50 zone. "I was passing, I was passing," the cabbie said.
"License and registration!"
Of course his information was out of date, plates expired, insurance a photocopy with no back, the cab not operating legally for the day, etc..
This time it was simple: I told him to call me another cab. He did, and this time I had no romantic entanglements on the way.
* Flashing red lights behind us.