"Museum Way, please," I said to the cab driver.

"Museum Way? No. Get out."

"Huh?"

The car door was still open when he started taking off with me in the back seat.

"Whoa dude, easy."

He stopped the cab. "Get out."

"Why? Museum Way ain't that far."

"I don't want to go there. Get some other cab."

Before I was able to hop out and slam the door, he was moving again.

I've just made an exciting discovery. It's filled me with all kinds of pride for New York City.

There actually are cab drivers out there who are worse than NYC cabbies—Boston cabbies.

NYC cabbies, while aggressive on the road, would love to give you a ride someplace. And they always know where you want to go.

Boston cabbies, on the other hand, being the mutants that they are, apparently have an adverse condition towards doing anything that could remotely earn them a tip.

And don't ask these guys for directions either. A few of the drivers that I paid to try to kill me were new to the city. One guy even asked me for directions.

There seems to be a deep hatred for driving into Cambridge as well. Museum Way is a street that lies on the border of Boston and Cambridge, and nine of out ten mutant Boston cabbies flat out refused to go there.

It's not like Museum Way is a ghetto either. The corporate apartment that I was staying in was graced with BMW and Mercedes owners who had valet guys bring their cars to the front door for them every morning.

So why the impertinence of Boston cabbies?

I don't know. Maybe it's a lack of fiber in their diets. All I know is, the T (the Boston subway) and I are going to be good friends the next time I'm in Boston. I just hope the T goes to Museum Way.

. . .

Ever taken a cab in Boston?