TEXTO II
I arrived in Rio’s busy central bus station late Thursday night. (...) I took a deep breath, stepped off the bus and went to look for my bag. (...) The wiry baggage handler already had my back-pack in his arms and was looking for its rightful owner. He lifted it onto my back with a groan and told me I was setting myself up for a very uncomfortable old age if I insisted on walking around with three tons on my back. “Enjoy Rio!” he called after me as I pushed through the crowds. So far, so good.
I was feeling quite good until I realized that I hadn’t got a single Real to my name and had to go to a cash point. “I am definitely going to be mugged now”, I thought as I wandered around rather aimlessly looking for an ATM. Great! I found a friendly policeman (a common sight in Rio’s bus terminals) and I asked him where the nearest ATM was. He smiled and laughed, “I am bored standing here looking at all these beautiful girls, let me show you”. Cash safely tucked away, he led me to the taxi rank and told me it was going to be the perfect night for a cold beer. Everything in Rio eventually leads to a cold beer. It was, after all, going to be my kind of city.
Taxis have always been a problem for me and I seem to attract deranged taxi drivers like moths to a flame. (...) My driver took my bags and locked them in the trunk of his battered taxi. I showed him the address and he nodded, slipped the car into gear and took off so fast I almost got whiplash (Cariocas seem unable to drive at anything less than break-neck speed - it is perhaps the most dangerous aspect of Rio). As we rushed dangerously from lane to lane the driver asked if it was my first time in Rio. “Yes”, I replied nervously with one hand covering my eyes.
He eased his car across four lanes of oncoming traffic, handbrake-turned into a side street and checked again the address I had given him. “It’s near Pão de Açúcar”, I told him, trying to sound vaguely confident as we screeched up in front of a beautifully modern, glass fronted building. “Here we are”, he smiled. “I don’t think this is the right place, my friend told me it was in front of Pão de Açúcar and I don’t see the supermarket anywhere”.
The taxi driver took a long hard look at me and burst out laughing. He leant out of the window and pointed with a chubby finger to the great craggy mountain opposite. “Know what that is?” he asked almost choking with laughter. I blushed, “That’s Pão de Açúcar? The real one? I thought I was looking for the supermarket of the same name”. This, the driver told me, was the funniest thing he had ever heard and he almost let me have the ride for free. Almost...
(PHILIP BLAZDELL. http://www.bootsnall.com)
Compreender as referências espaciais é fundamental para se entender o humor do fato narrado neste texto.
a) Know what that is? (1) Indique a que se refere a palavra that na pergunta do motorista
b) This, (...), was the funniest thing he had ever heard (2). Explique por que o mal-entendido tornou-se engraçado.