When we arrive in Budapest, Jeremy directed us to the small taxicab building HQ outside the airport doors. We wouldn’t need to get cash at the airport since most places around the city take credit card.
I showed them my destination address, and they printed out a slip for my driver.
Removing a credit card from my wallet, I asked, “Do you accept credit cards?”
“Yes. No problem.”
After a quiet thirty–minute drive, we arrived about fifty meters from my apartments. My driver pulled over onto the left side of the narrow street, right before it veered in another direction.
I handed him my credit card, and he said he couldn’t take it. Only cash.
Rage and disbelief. Panic, really.
I would sprint into the apartments to get my friends. Reluctantly, he nodded, and off I went.
At the reception office, and asked if Jeremy checked in. I couldn’t use my cell phone (no SIM card yet). I ran around and failed to find the room, blaming the lack of signs. Then, Elizabeth and Karen magically appeared! After waiting a couple of minutes, Elizabeth found Jeremy, who paid the driver and saved my evening.
Thanks friends! Yay Automattic meetups!
P.S. The driver explained his credit card machine wouldn’t work because the batteries died. Ridiculous. 🙂
All Narfed Up 
You forgot to mention the ATM we discovered a few days later, a few meters from where the cab stopped 🙂
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Blast you, Jeremy! 😉
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Actually, I think I failed to find Jeremy — he found you himself. 🙂 The funny thing is when I asked the same booth if the cabs took cards, she gave me this withering “of course,” like, where do you think you are, the bush?
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I had the same interaction getting a cab. Then the driver seemed kind of annoyed that I didn’t have cash, but he *did* take my card. I gotta wonder if this is a similar thing to NYC, where sometimes the credit card machine is “broken” because they can’t pocket the tip that way.
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Shenanigans.
It feels like the runaround I experienced would be worse for the driver (rather than getting another customer).
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HAHA!
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