The first and last yellow cab I took in San Francisco: the driver didn't know where the Presidio was, took us somewhere completely different, and then argued wi

The first and last yellow cab I took in San Francisco: the driver didn't know where the Presidio was, took us somewhere completely different, and then argued with us for a solid five minutes insisting we'd given him the wrong address (we hadn't, multiple times, with the zip code, explaining that it was near the Golden Gate bridge). The driver had a GPS unit in the car. I couldn't even get angry; brain was already saturated with amazement.