Who knew they had taxis in Silicon Valley? Well, Google apparently, because that’s how I figured it out. I was under the assumption that when you moved to Silicon Valley, you inherently purchased a Prius, Leaf or Tesla and that was the end of it. Public transportation is virtually non-existent, although fancy Apple and Google busses are readily available. If you’re employed, they’re going to make sure you’re getting to work—even if you don’t have the compulsory hybrid. The taxi driver is Sikh and he’s wearing a turban. He’s listening to foreign music that lights up some Pavlovian part of my brain and I suddenly feel as if I’m getting dropped off at some outdoor marketplace. He’s extremely polite when he plugs the address into his GPS, but after that, he doesn’t say a word until we reach my destination, so I’m left to ponder how America misses out on all the great outdoor Bazaars in lieu of malls. “Thank you,” I tell him as we get to Brea’s mom’s house. I double the fare to make up for the short ride.
