Which law of physics is it which states that, given that I have a desire to catch a taxi, as I approach the street but before I am within hailing distance I will see at least three empty taxis fly by, but as soon as I arrive at the corner there might as well be a tumbleweed blowing across the road while a steel guitar moans from somewhere off stage left? Or, alternatively, there are still taxis rushing by-- but all are occupied. Tonight I stood on the seaside road for nearly five minutes, clutching my several bags of groceries et al. and squinting to see through the sandstorm that had arisen while I was inside, only to watch dismally as taxi after taxi flashed by, transporting those luckier than I to their desired destinations.

And then, of course, there's the lesser known but equally frustrating natural law which states that all taxi drivers except mine will disregard one-way street signs. Apparently each one gains some sort of instant law-abiding conscience as soon as I climb into the taxi. My building is hidden within a warren of supposedly one-way streets and confusing switch-backs and dead-end roads. Tonight I discovered that yet another street that I had formerly assumed ran in both directions (since traffic flow on it had always seemed to indicate such) is in fact officially one-way-- in the opposite direction from which we needed to go, of course. That's another inevitability. One-way streets always run in whatever direction is most inconvenient at that particular moment.