»In which a vague ethnic slur is made

Living in a city which does not feature an abundance of taxi-cabs, I often call a dispatch when I require a hackie to take me from point to point. The conversation goes something like this:

Me: Yes, good morning, I need a cab at such-and-such number on Scott St.
Dispatcher: What is your phone number?
Me: (provides ditto)
(At this point the Dispatcher usually says, "Fifteen to twenty minutes" and rings off.)
Dispatcher: Ah, that's near Haight St.!
Me: Yes.
Dispatcher: You're around the corner from that crazy Indian guy?
Me: I do'n't know, I just want the cab.
Dispatcher: Oh, you just want the cab? You do'n't know the guy?
Me: (click)

Has a descendant of Crazy Horse settled in the Lower Haight? Are a lot of silly Sikhs in residence on Haight Street? Or worse: am I the crazy Indian guy?

and what does any of this have to do with my getting a cab? Barely had I rung off when the door-bell rang and a stereotype with ruddy cheeks and a soft hat appeared at the door.