- While studying abroad,
I had one of the wildest nights of my life.
And this is that story.
Hello, again.
All right, so this story goes back a few years.
I was a junior in college, spending a semester overseas,
studying in Rome.
(festive music)
Now, before we get to the juicy stuff,
I should mention just how excited I was to be in Rome.
I was a classics major.
Many of you are absolutely thinking,
I have no idea what that means.
I'll tell us what it means.
I was, and will always be,
fascinated by ancient Greek and Roman civilization.
All things I'll definitely need to know when I'm older.
Ultimately, it doesn't really get much better
than spending six months in Rome.
So, this wild night starts maybe a month into our semester.
It's Saturday night, and we collectively decide
that we're gonna take the plunge
and explore the night life scene.
I say that like it's a thing because it was a thing,
at least to us.
Back in the US, all we knew was house parties
or dancing in someone's basement.
We all get dressed up,
we wanna look cool, we wanna look hot.
We wanna look like this is not our first time doing this.
Fast forward to pulling up to the club.
Well, pulling up to the club. Who do I think I am?
We get to the club and we head inside.
We had chosen a place that sounded cool,
but looking back on it, it just sounds dumb.
It had a dumb name, like Inspire or Radiate or Steam.
Whatever, the name's not important.
So, we're in the club,
and we're actually having a really great time.
We're dancing, we're drinking.
It's not crowded for some reason.
We're living it up.
Obviously, now I understand that people in Rome
don't really start heading out until midnight, 1:00 a.m.,
and here we are, multiple drinks deep by 11.
It got to a point, you know, where we're like,
taking pictures of ourselves.
Couple group shots, couple selfies, cute, cute.
But when we immediately look at those pictures,
they were very clear signals it was time to pack it in.
It's making us laugh, obviously,
but then we really take a closer look at one of my friends.
We zoomed into her eyes, and they're open,
and sure, they're pointed in the direction of the camera,
but there is no soul in those eyes.
At this point in the story,
it's probably two o'clock in the morning.
Let's get everyone together and get the hell out of here.
So, we rally our group, head outside,
and it is a complete madhouse.
There's people everywhere waiting to get in.
Security guards are yelling, cars are honking.
It's complete sensory overload.
How do we get home?
We just gotta get home.
Thinking back, I don't really understand
how this next part is possible, but it's what happened.
There was not a single taxi in sight.
Yeah, there were cars everywhere,
but none of them seemed to be just a regular taxi.
Suddenly, this man leaning on his car gets our attention.
It says taxi on the side of the car,
but it doesn't look like other taxis.
He's just shouting at us in Italian.
We were all just getting the hang of very basic Italian,
so most of what he was saying
was just going right over our heads.
He's opening the door and motioning for us to get in.
Everyone starts heading towards the car,
but in my head, I'm thinking,
this guy is 100% trying to rip us off.
I try asking him how much it'll cost
to take us to where we were staying,
and he says something like,
don't worry, don't worry, pay later.
He's bordering on aggressive, but, I don't know.
He just seemed like a shady guy.
Now, let's pump the breaks on this video
because I can hear everyone yelling,
why are you getting in this car?
And I'm sorry to say, we all pile in the back seat.
I know, I know.
To be honest, my main concern at this point in the night
was just getting us home.
I didn't care at what cost.
So again, as we pull away,
I muster a little bit more Italian to say,
how much is this going to cost?
He seems very annoyed with my question
and fires back a price.
It was way too much.
Everyone in the car can feel the tension.
We're getting ripped off.
Someone else summons the courage to try and negotiate.
Through little bits of English and mostly Italian,
we're able to make out that if we don't like the price,
he'll kick us out and leave us.
Honestly, it was scary.
This clearly wasn't a real taxi.
Yes, we were dumb enough to get in it, but we were stuck.
We didn't say anything else,
and it seemed we all just silently agreed
to take the ride home and we'll pay what we have to.
We quietly do a quick money check.
Okay, we have more than enough.
We're gonna be fine, ripped off, but fine.
We are winding through these streets.
This guy's driving fast, he's talking on the phone.
I had no idea how far away we are.
Nothing looked familiar.
Everyone in the car
starts trading worried glances at each other.
This didn't feel right.
Suddenly, my friend in the middle
puts her hands up to her mouth.
We've been in college long enough to know what that means.
There's some puke coming.
Before any of us can intervene with words of encouragement,
rolling the windows down, she erupts.
Sorry about this next part.
Because her hands are in front of her mouth,
this directs the throw up in a 180 degree plane,
parallel vomit fell directly onto my self
and my friend on the other side of the car.
We try to be quick with the cover up.
The guy driving already hates us, sorry again.
We're scooping the throw up in,
I don't know what we were trying to do,
but the panic was setting in.
The driver slowly looks into his rear view mirror
and really gets a good look
at everything that's happening behind him.
He immediately pulls the car over and is furious.
The second the car stops, he jumps out,
whips the door open, and is yelling at us to get out.
We're all terrified.
Someone has the common sense to pull some money out
and hand it to him.
It clearly wasn't enough.
He takes the money, but then he also takes his phone out.
Something to note, we had driven through an area
that didn't feel like the city
where there was a park or something,
but we were essentially alone with this guy.
Some of us are trying to reason with him.
Some of us are trying
to clean the puke out of the back seat.
And my friend who threw up, she's just like, doing her best.
We're spiraling.
Maybe he's calling the cops.
But as he's talking, he's saying the name Marco a lot.
Who is Marco?
Is Marco on the police force?
Is Marco his boss?
I don't know.
Doesn't make sense for him to even be talking to the police.
Is this cab even legal?
But he is really shouting on the phone,
and gesturing at us.
We need to start talking exit strategy.
We had our money, we cleaned the car out the best we could.
We just needed to get home.
Once again, no real words exchanged,
but we were all clearly on the same page.
We slowly start to work away down the dark road,
and he hurries past us with his arms out blocking us.
We're trying to give him more money.
We don't have much left.
We're apologizing.
He is so angry, all the while, still on the phone,
staring daggers at us.
And I get the sense that
whoever he was talking to on that phone
was on their way here now.
Now, I truly, truly do not know what came over me
in this next moment.
All I knew was that we were not safe,
and we were not going to stick around
to see what happens next.
Somehow, in Italian, I calmly ask,
who are you talking to on the phone?
He gives us this bone chilling smile, and all he says is,
"Mi amico, Marco."
So I said, "Say ciao to Marco."
And grabbed the phone out of this man's hands.
And throw it into the bushes.
Yeah, 100% true.
There's a second of silence which is broken
by my previously dead-eyed friend shouting, "Run!"
Someone throws the last handful of money that we have,
and we all take off.
Now, I'm assuming if you're still watching,
you're enjoying the story,
but the craziest part hasn't even happened yet,
so don't go anywhere.
Oddly enough, the man doesn't chase us,
which makes me think he was trying to scare us,
or made enough money not to care anymore.
Who knows?
So, sweaty, panting, covered in throw up,
we make our way to an intersection,
where at least there are street lights, cars, buildings.
Of course, there's taxis everywhere now.
But all of the drivers took one look at us and floored it.
All hope seemed lost.
No one had any idea what to do.
This night was a disaster.
Now, this next part is not 100% true.
It's 1000% true.
A limousine pulls up next to us.
So, for those of you keeping track,
this is now the second time
a mysterious car has appeared in the story.
The back window rolls down, and it's,
I don't know how else to say this.
A beautifully elegant young Italian couple.
They were dressed like
they were coming home from a ball or something,
and we, we looked like we fell off the back of a train.
In exceptional English, they ask, where are we trying to go?
I don't even remember who did the talking.
I think we were all just processing what just happened,
and what was currently happening.
These magnificent, angelic people opened the door
and tell us to hop in.
They'll take us wherever we need to go.
What?
Yeah, I don't know either.
We drive home, we tell them what happened.
They agreed, it sounded scary.
They stopped at a store to buy us water and pastries.
And eventually, they drop us off at our apartment,
just like they said they would.
We get inside safe and sound,
and just pass out from exhaustion.
Within the past hour, it had gone from Locked Up Abroad
to the Princess Diaries,.
So,
so,
so insane.
If my fancy limo angels are watching,
thank you for being so kind to us.
And to our driver, none of us are proud of what happened,
and we're sorry for the mess.
And to Marco, sweet Marco, I'm sorry we never met.
Ciao.
(dreamy music)