The first and last yellow cab I took in San Francisco: the driver didn&#x27;t know where the Presidio was, took us somewhere completely different, and then argued with us for a solid five minutes insisting we&#x27;d given him the wrong address (we hadn&#x27;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&#x27;t even get angry; brain was already saturated with amazement.