No Problem-o

This is a paraphrase of a true conversation my mother once had with a taxi driver in Jamaica. When she told it to me later, she couldn’t remember things most people notice—gender, race, or appearance.

Mother: I'm late for my flight. Hurry!
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Isn't there a quicker route? I'll be late.
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Slow down. You're driving too fast.
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Roll up your window. It's too windy.
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Get me closer to United's checkin. I'm already late.
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Careful, that suitcase has fragile glass in it.
Driver: No problem-o
Mother: Here's the tip.
Driver: A dollar?! I hope your plane crashes.
Mother: What did you say?!!
Driver: No problem-o