Don't Like It? Well, F- . . .

So I climbed into a taxi after a long day, and all I wanted to do was get home, fast.

I told the young guy at the wheel my destination in Cantonese, he repeated it and we were off. He wasn't the chatty type, which was nice; the ride home was peaceful.

Until he answered his mobile phone as we pulled in to the village.

Despite that I gave him directions in Cantonese, and that I asked for a receipt in Cantonese, for some reason he thought I couldn't understand him as he jokingly told his buddy to F-off four or five times. Either that or he just didn't care.

Now that I think about it, I vote for the latter.

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