Cab drivers are many things, here in Abu Dhabi. But they are rarely jolly.

They also are rarely tubby.

I flagged down a taxi driver tonight who was both. I know it’s a cliche, but perhaps those concepts are connected.

It was 8 p.m. And up rolled my tubby cabbie.

Cab drivers here skew young and subcontinental, and thin. We just don’t see overweight guys behind the wheel of a taxi.

My guy, however, could barely fit into the seat, and he had it racked as far back as it would go. He looked uncomfortable. But he didn’t act it.

We talked about the weather, but in greater depth than the usual noncommittal niceties.

We agreed that this summer had been hotter than the past two (each of us has been in the UAE for three years). He expressed astonishment that, even in the desert, we could be approaching two years here without significant rain fall.

“It is raining every second day now in Pakistan,” he said, referring to his home country. “Rain, no rain, rain. Every second day. Here? Nothing for two years!”

We also were of one accord on the matter of the air quality here. He suggested — even before I could agree — that it is worse now than it was in 2009.

(But he said it in a jolly way.)

“The proof is on the plants,” he said. “Look at the leaves. They have dust on them. Much dust is in the air. It is hard to breathe. It wasn’t so much like this when I came.”

All that probably doesn’t convey how cheerful this guy was. Eager to talk. Keen to take it a bit deeper than usual. Perhaps because his English was stronger than the typical guy’s.

And does a link exist between chubby and cheerful? I haven’t considered this in a long time. But, yes. Perhaps so.

My cabbie smiled. He chuckled. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I had a fleeting idea of asking him if he wanted to drive us around regularly … but I decided we had to stick with our Filipino guy, Leonard.

Just because he was so pleasant.

It’s rare enough here that I am writing about it.