Hell hath no fury like this lady, barking loud orders into her phone.

Though February, the sun was out, so both my taxi driver and me had our windows open, as we waited at the light. The staccato of her yelling revealed some eastern European tongue. She almost couldn’t contain herself. I never saw such anger.

Next to us was a guy on his motorcycle. The three of us looked at the erupting volcano lady. The biker and my driver shared a glance and the three of us laughed simultaneously, relieved not to be at the receiving end of her fury.

The light changed and our ménage a trois dissolved.

The moment stayed with me, though.





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