OK, I've got some grey in my hair, but sure, I'm not a blonde, nor even bleached. Even so, I'm mad.
This evening some people I know needed a taxi. I went to the nearby stand from where we get taxis so often, most of the waiting drivers know us and greet us. Today, a guy in white said he'd take the job, and stood listening as I explained where he had to go to pick up his fares, and where they wanted to go ...
... until, in mid-sentence or maybe even mid-word (I am not making this up), he suddenly turned and ran over to a pale-coloured woman from one of those Western countries, hair nicely bleached blonde, who was walking towards the stand. She hadn't even indicated she wanted a taxi. To him, her trending in this direction was enough. At her side, he actually bowed to her and directed her to his cab.
When I got over my astonishment at being so summarily abandoned, I shouted across at him, what are you doing? He waved a hand at me in some irritation, then said there were plenty of other drivers available.
You're right, Mr Fawn-Over-the-Expat Taxi Driver, there are plenty of other drivers available. But that's not why you never get my business again. Ever.