Vroom!

Vroom! A young man in his twenties zoomed past the taxi and undertook him before repeating the same daring feat between a motorbike and a pick up truck.

"Young idiots" I commented to the taxi driver. This was my attempt to spark an interesting coversation. "I can't believe these young guys spend so much money on a car and drive so recklessly," I said, and this was the taxi driver's perfect opportunity to boast about his financial expertise.

"Not like us," he slowly commented/chanted/sinisterly cackled even. "We know that you've gotta save your money and buy a house first," which I nodded and also verbally shown my agreement, but the pandora's box had been opened and I was now in full scale interaction with this particular taxi driver and I had no escape.

"We need a five year plan. I've always insisted on having a five and ten year financial plan," he beamed back in his rear view mirror.

Now I was sure I only just read that in the newspaper that very morning, but this taxi driver sure had a lot to say and he surely assumed that only he had read the newspaper that day. I listened uncomfortably anyway.

"I TELL you ah. You can't speculate liquid assets on liabilities in this uncertain economical climate. Must save mannie for children's education," he advised. "I've always believed in this," he reinstated with zeal and pride. All of which I could have sworn was repeated word for word out of the day's newspaper.

After the usual 'go straight, turn left, stop here please. HERE! NOW STOP! NOW! HERE!' routine at my place, I exited the taxi an enlightened man with a sinister looking taxi driver, still smiling at me, with his head almost popping through the glass window. Tomorrow would be his day to advise people on how to plan a perfect marriage and arrange a foreign maid to look after your kids.

So now you know where you can go for some good financial planning advice. Make sure you take the taxi on the right day, probe the driver towards the subject and most of all beware any sinister cackles.