Today, I took a cab driven by a man in full chauffer uniform. “Don’t you want to know why there’s a cab driver in full chauffer uniform?” he asked.

No, I thought. “Sure,” I said.

He explained that he had been a limousine driver until September 11, 2001, after which time the bottom fell out of the chauffer business. Now, he said, he drives a cab, but he likes to go the extra mile to make sure his customers have a positive experience, because one positive experience could brighten someone’s entire day, and one positive day can brighten someone’s entire life. “I’m like a computer icon,” he finished. “You can think of me in my chauffer uniform whenever you need to feel positive, and you will. It’s like clicking on a computer icon and having a file open. What do you think? Eh? Eh?”

Gag me with a spoon, I thought. “That’s lovely,” I said.

He asked what I did for a living, and I told him I am a graphic designer; in a misguided effort at solidarity, I mentioned that my own field has also been heavily affected by September 11.

That’s when he tried to enroll me in his multi-level marketing system. “You can earn an extra $8,000 or $10,000 per month! And we’ll train you to be a regional vice president. What do you think? Eh? Eh?”

I’d like to shoot you in the back of the head and watch your brains splatter across the windshield, I thought. “What an opportunity!” I said.

The rest of the ride was a sales pitch. Not only could I make a lot of money, I could enroll all of my friends as a way of helping them, too. Because it’s all about helping people, yessiree Bob! All I had to do was say the word, and he’d personally take me to his organization’s weekly meeting at LaGuardia airport. “What do you think? Eh? Eh?”

Shooting won’t hurt enough . . . I’d like to see you drawn and quartered, then beheaded, then burned, and have your ashes flushed down the toilet, I thought. “I’ll have to let you know,” I said.

When I paid my fare, he gave me my change in an envelope along with a computer-generated thank-you card. The note inside read: “Let me Thank You for being a valued client! I have so appreciated serving you. I look forward to many years of giving you the highest standard of excellence in service. Signed, Your Positive Taxi Driver.”

You know, on the one hand, it’s nice to see someone happy with what he’s doing and taking pride in his standard of service. On the other hand, I don’t think pestering your customers with a pyramid scheme represents a particularly high standard of service.

Now, if you’ll pardon me, I have to get changed for my meeting at LaGuardia airport.