A Messenger of Synchronicity

Sometimes I check out boys on bicycles as I drive by them. Sometimes, if I see one that's especially cute, I even squeal and/or giggle. I am a girly and more introverted version of the hollering and whistling construction worker.

A couple of months ago I saw the same boy on a bicycle about four times in one week. "What a weird coincidence," I thought. The next week my friend and fellow taxi driver Susan and I met at Atlas Cafe for coffee. As I parked my car, I saw the same bicycle boy again, locking up his bike in front of Atlas. "What an even weirder coincidence," I thought. I walked up to him and said "Hey. I see you everywhere, riding your bike. And now here you are again." I told him that I was a taxi driver. He told me that his name was Sean and asked me to please not run him over. I always think it's weird when people ask me that. Why would I ever run anybody over?

Recently, while walking near my house, I saw him and his bike again. We still remembered each other's names and chatted briefly.

This week I waved at him from my Green Cab once as I was dropping somebody off, and today, while driving a DeSoto cab, on Drumm Street I suddenly had a guy on a bicycle in front of me that I almost ran over. I slowed down and thought "Oooo, I like his style." As I passed him, I turned my head, and sure enough, it was Sean. We waved at each other. About half an hour later I saw him again, pushing his bike on Battery Street. I pulled over, rolled down my window and said "Sean!"

"Hey." He walked over to my car.

"So how come I see you everywhere? Do you just ride your bike around all day long?"

"Pretty much."

"For what?"

"It's my job."

"Are you a bike messenger?"

"Yeah."

"Ahhhh. Now that makes sense."

Everything was making sense now. Also, it seems inevitable for taxi drivers and bike messengers to get to know each other. I'm surprised it took me this long to meet one.