He got out of the cab and ran around to open the door. This never happens. I thanked him repeatedly. He tried to talk and write in his log at the same time, and we had this funny disjointed conversation about Bobby Brown (love old school R&B/dance) and how when I worked at a hospital in my late teens/early twenties, I teased a candy striper volunteer about being dropped on his head when he was a baby. He said, “Well, actually…” Turns out his mom DID drop him. I had no idea that poor kid had the odds stacked against him. I fully expected to be disciplined. My driver thought it was hilarious that I could possibly go to hell. Of course, karma gave me 10 brain surgeries as payback. We started our ride with laughs.
We got on the topic of age. I found out he is 52 (and he absolutely looks and sounds 32, we are in that club together). We talked about keeping people in our lives for quality over quantity. We also talked about how we did things in our 20s that we absolutely, positively did not expect to have done or lived through. Like, what??? [There are some things I did I will never tell a living soul.] Thankfully, some memories fade. But he said he was married to the perfect woman – for him – and she was loving and giving and supportive, but she died. I didn’t ask how, and he didn’t say. He was married again but they divorced. He said the next person will be on probation.
I told him a little about my dating history, including my most recent ex. It’s kind of crazy, but most come back, usually because they at least want to be near me, and sometimes because they want to get back together. My driver told me that he knew it was because of my giving nature. (It’s true, my money is out there everywhere! Hahaha!!! I have no idea how he guessed that.) But he insisted that men needed to take care of me. I don’t know what that would be like, but it sounds nice for about five minutes, but then I get all bucky because I’m independent.
My driver said that he had a friend visiting from Houston and she is in a wheelchair. So as he was making arrangements and buying the tickets, she reminded him that she would need accommodations. He told her that he would have everything in place, and not to stress. He was paying attention. He said that if he noticed that someone had shoes that were wearing out, he would ask them their shoe size, and then buy them replacements. It isn’t that hard to pay attention. I actually got weepy at this point and was grateful for the mask rule and the fact that we were in a noisy car. Even as I am writing this, I am affected. I have friends who are POC, and I know they are not seen. So this man makes sure that people are seen.
My driver talked about buying acreage in Georgia, as Arizona is not necessarily rich in resources. We don’t have the guarantee of water here. He basically described setting up large compound with friends and like-minded people. I always wanted to do this myself, but it’s really a pipe dream for me – partly because half of my people like the frozen tundra and half like the scorching heat. And then we would have to worry about everyone staying friends, or would dog shit ruin it all?