I’ve been in my own little personal feminist hell this week (see yesterday’s post for further evidence), but my taxi ride this afternoon was really just the icing on the cake. Please, read an excerpt of the conversation below.

***Taking a taxi back to work from lunch with J at the marina:

Uncle Taxi Driver: You are researchers? Waaaa what a waste!

Me: What??!!

Uncle: Such a waste two lovely ladies in a lab all day nobody can see their beauty.

J: [sarcastically] yeah well that’s why we come out into the sunlight for lunch.

Uncle: You are lovely ladies, so I’ll tell you how it is.  Men like all the Barbies. First you have beautiful Barbie, but next week, newer Barbie!

J: Yeah, I know a lot of guys like this…

Uncle: Yessss I know how the guys. Cheeky cheeky. Got Barbie, but then new Barbie comes and wah lan!  Must have new series.

Me: You mean guys wanna have Malibu Barbie too? Or even Malibu Ken.

[my inappropriate joke is unappreciated]

Uncle: Well, if you can get fresh milk you don’t need to bring home the cow.

[silence]

J: Wait let me guess, the woman is the cow in this story?

Uncle: Correct! If you can drink the fresh milk, why you need to bring the cow home? Then you got to feed the cow.

Me: Hey! What if the cow doesn’t want to come home with you? What if she doesn’t want you pulling on her udders, trying to get her fresh milk all the time?

Uncle: Well, the mans need a lot of different flavors: vanilla milk, chocolate milk, strawberry milk, milk in the coffee…

[a lot of suppressed snorting in the back seat]

Uncle: …and I like this Irish coffee. Good milk.

J: Well, I for one never saw the appeal of a redhead…

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