Something that bothered me in Boquete is how taxi drivers would give a false estimate of the time of their arrival. It was common to be told "I will arrive in 7 minutes" and not see the cab for 45. The worst was probably the time I was told 15 minutes, and it took the cabbie 90. When an excuse was offered, it was usually that the driver had seen neighbors wanting a ride, and he had to stop for them. Since I was in a cab at least twice daily, while drivers would get calls and I would overhear the same lies being told to others. The driver would tell the passenger he was in such and such a location, driving in this direction or that, and that he could arrive in 6-7-8 minutes. From my seat next to him, I knew the driver was even close to where he said he was, was not going in the direction he said he was, and needed at least 15 minutes to drop me off and even more time if there were additional passengers in the back seat before he could head in the direction of the new passenger.
What was going on? Boquete did not have a central number to call for a taxi. Passengers would telephone drivers until they found on who said he was available. By saying he would pick up the passenger within a few minutes, he was more or less obligating the passenger to wait for him and not look for or call another driver.
A cabbie was flabbergasted one morning. He arrived to pick up a couple, the woman called him names and threw rocks at his car. For nothing! Well, it had to be for something. He had agreed to pick up the couple at one time but arrived around 45 minutes late. He had a flat. Had he called the couple to tell them of the delay and to suggest they find another cab? Of course not. It had not occurred to him. In his culture, he had an unavoidable delay. In other cultures, there had been no communication and he had lied. My explanation of the woman's anger went in one ear and out the other.
How did I live with this? Well, I tried to cultivate friendships among the drivers. I brought them toys, candies or T-shirts for their kids, bought them lunch when I had to go to the airport in David, etc. I don't think it worked. When I could be doing something else (watching TV, surfing the net, etc.), I would asked to be called when they arrived. (Since I was in the country, a sometimes-locked gate often kept cabs from approaching the house. I had to wait on the roadside.) If I was not home, about all I could do is find a soft rock to sit on while I read a magazine, listened to an iPod, maybe drink coffee, and wait. And, knowing that the cab would most likely be late, I tried to leave for commitments with plenty of time for more stories about neigbors. Irritating? Yes, but it was not the end of the world.
What did others do? Some Panamanian friends said they would call two or more cabs, taking the first one to arrive. This did not work well in the long run as cab drivers would get to know their reputations for pulling that stunt and refuse to pick them up.
I've lived in Brazil, Costa Rica, and Guatemala. I only had this problem with drivers in Panama.