Driving a Taxi in Shanghai

Heitao

Guangdong People’s Publishing House

March 2024

59.00 (CNY)

This book is a non-fiction work hailed as the taxi driver’s version of Midnight Diner. The author meticulously documents his experiences while driving a taxi in Shanghai， capturing a wide array of stories and glimpses of human life within the confined space of a cab. It interweaves the daily life and industry conditions of taxi drivers with vivid descriptions of Shanghai’s urban landscape and historical snapshots. The stories are rich and engaging， written in a concise and humorous style.

Heitao

Heitao， a writer and artisan， has worked in various occupations including magazine editor， small shop owner， temporary government worker， and taxi driver.

I met Da Hu at a taxi holding area.

If you haven’t driven a taxi in a big city， you might not know that places like taxi stands even exist. They are designated areas associated with large airports， train stations， and amusement parks. Most taxi drivers who drop off passengers at these places will enter the taxi stand to queue up， and some will come from far away specifically for this (usually to the taxi stand at Pudong Airport).

The queue area has specially separated lanes that can be locked at both ends. Drivers park in order and， after waiting for some time， are guided by attendants to pick up passengers exiting the station. The area is equipped with restaurants， supermarkets， and restrooms， making it a good place for drivers to have a meal and take a break. The three taxi stand areas at the Hongqiao hub generally release cars in under two hours， sometimes in just half an hour or even fifteen minutes. The Pudong Airport taxi stand holding area is larger， open 24 hours， and can hold thousands of cars of various colors and sizes， lined up impressively. However， the wait here is longer， at least three hours， with four or five hours being normal， and sometimes even overnight. If the weather isn’t too cold or too hot， drivers can manage to get some sleep in their cars.

That day， I entered one of the holding areas at the Hongqiao hub. The area was less than half full， so it would surely clear out quickly. Realizing I wouldn’t have time for a meal， I went to the restaurant to get a cup of hot water and strolled back leisurely.

In the adjacent lane， a car’s right rear tire was flat， and a young man was struggling to remove it. No matter how hard his skinny arms worked the socket wrench， the lug nut wouldn’t budge.

I told him， “You won’t be able to loosen it like that. Try stepping on it!”

He looked up， his face covered in sweat. He was a bright， youthful-looking young man， barely older than the minimum age for getting a driver’s license， and his appearance was comparable to members of boy bands like The Little Tigers or TFboys. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and smiled， “I have to use my foot?”

I nodded.

He adjusted the wrench angle and tried stepping on it. The wrench still wouldn’t move. Then he stood on it， using his entire body weight to press down several times. The lug nut finally yielded， as if moved by his effort. Once breaking through the defense line， the rest were easier.

He smiled happily and turned to me， “So that’s how you do it! I wasted so much effort before for nothing! Thank you!”

He loosened each lug nut， but the last one was particularly tight. After several attempts， he still couldn’t get it off. I said， “Let me do it.”

With my 80-kilogram weight， I stood on the wrench and pressed down hard， and it turned easily. This was the time for the jack to make its debut. But the young man was a complete novice， and seeing him awkwardly fumble with it， I felt the need to lend a hand.

As I was raising the jack， I chatted with him， “This your first time changing a tire?”

He laughed， “Yes， first time. I’ve only been driving a taxi for three months.”

“Thought you were quite young. But once you’ve done it once， you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Earlier， I couldn’t find a place to park outside. There was a space at an underground parking entrance， clearly not blocking traffic， but the guard wouldn’t let me stop!”

“The guard was just following the rules. This place is perfect， not hindering your picking up passengers.”

He clumsily removed the tire and fitted the spare， hand-tightening the lug nuts until he couldn’t turn them anymore， then tightening them in a crisscross pattern with the wrench. So he had done some homework.

By this time， the lanes had started to clear out， and it happened that the driver of the car in front of him hadn’t returned yet. The dispatcher reported this to the control center via walkie-talkie， and the announcement was immediately broadcasted， “Driver of the taxi with the license plate ending in Area A， please return to your car immediately upon hearing this broadcast…”

Before that driver hurried back， I helped the young man finish changing the tire， ensuring we didn’t hold up the line. The young man thanked me profusely. I said， “Hurry up and get moving! Find a place to get the tire repaired soon; the spare isn’t meant for long-term use.”

A few days later， at the Pudong Airport taxi stand， I surprisingly ran into him again. He saw me， called out， and came over with a bright smile to talk. He still remembered the last time and wanted to treat me to a meal. I quickly waved him off， “No need for that. It was a small thing， and I’ve just eaten.”

He said， “Not here. Someday， when we finish early， let’s find a place for a proper meal!”

This cheerful， sunny young man knew how to show appreciation， but such a minor thing didn’t warrant a meal from him.

We chatted for a while. His name was Da Hu， just twenty years old. He dropped out of high school and worked in Ningbo for two years before his taxi-driving father called him to Shanghai. Following in his father’s footsteps， they co-owned a taxi.

“Do you like Shanghai?” I asked.

“Of course!” he changed his tone and said， “Shanghai， the streets are full of money， and women are everywhere. Anyone who can make up their mind can succeed. Anyone who can seize an opportunity can make a name for themselves.”

I thought this kid was something else， especially since at his age， liking Stephen Chow wasn’t common.

I added Da Hu on WeChat. His online name was quite flashy: “Are you blind? You bumped into my heart.” It seemed he might be a romantic or a ladies’ man. Later， we chatted sporadically through WeChat， sharing our daily earnings before calling it a day. It was a way to relax. I could give him some tips， and he had his own insights. Gradually， we got to know each other better. I lived in Pudong， and he was in Songnan， not exactly close. Every time we drove out， we were like particles in a Brownian motion in the city， with few chances to meet; we only met three times in two months. Running into each other twice within a few days at the taxi stand was pure luck. Even if we couldn’t drink while driving， we still had a great time chatting at a small eatery. In my youth， I liked hanging out with kids a few years younger， and it felt like reliving those times.