SXSW: Sick cab

The past two years, I've waited 20 to 30 minutes for a cab at the Austin, Texas, airport when arriving mid-afternoon for the South by Southwest (SXSW) conference. So I thought I scored this year when there was no line at the cabbie stall.

But after pulling out of the airport, I was informed of some bad news.

"My cab is sick," said the driver.

While I was immediately reminded of an ex who used to personify her car by giving it a name, the news soon got worse.

"My cab is sick, and I hope it doesn't die on the way downtown."

I asked what made the car ill.

"You don't hear that noise?"

No, I did not hear any noise, and that seemed to end the conversation.

Then five minutes later: "You still don't hear that noise?"

I still didn't hear it.

"Oh, you heard it," he said.

He asked me what I did, and I said I was a journalist, to which he replied: "You write about music, but you can't hear that noise?"

We eventually arrived safely at the hotel, and I asked if I could get a picture of the sick cab. I was told no photos.