Taxi Tales

Last week, the hotel called a taxi for me to go to the airport to pick up Pamela and others.  (They didn't arrive, but that was another post.)  The car came, and it looked like a taxi to me.  A few miles before the tollbooth for the airport, the driver motions to me that he's going to pull over and get out for a minute.  I thought, "OK, nature calls.  No big deal.  We've all done it." 

But, he instead goes to the trunk and pulls out a taxi-yellow-roof-light thing and puts it on top, attached by magnets.  Then he pulls out two magnetic signs and puts them on both doors.  He gets back in, turns to me and says, with a huge smile,

Now I taxi! 

Taxis don't pay tolls at this particular tollbooth, for the airport.