Being the passenger
On Friday night I slipped out of 1015 around 3am. My black hood was on my head and my dark green coat was draped over my shoulders like a cape. I was feeling dark and I liked it. I squatted down against the wall and dialed the number of Santos, my best cabbie buddy. Unfortunately he wasn't driving.
A DeSoto van pulled up in front of 1015 and I slipped in. I said to the driver "You will not believe what I am about to tell you." He said "Oh yeah? What is it?" "I'm a DeSoto driver too." I think I need to get over myself. It's not that extraordinary that I'm a taxi driver but that I also go to clubs in platform boots on the weekends. Or maybe I don't need to get over myself. The last thing a cab driver probably expects a girl getting into his cab in the middle of the night to say is "Hey, I drive a taxi too." I do think I am very special, oh yes.
This guy had only been driving for a week. He had me give him directions to my house.
I told him that I had been at the Chinese New Year's party at 1015. I told him that it was the Year of the Pig now. I also told him that we just ended the Year of the Dog. I said "Ha! Dog! And Pig! Now wonder I have been meeting nothing but dogs and pigs." He said "All the guys you have been meeting are dogs and pigs? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."**
"So the right guy for you - what does he have to have?"
"Mmmmm, he has to wear make-up."
"Make-up? Like in the bedroom?"
"When he goes out."
"He has to be skinny. He has to be psychic. And he has to looooove talking about feelings."
"I don't wear make-up, so I guess I'm not your guy."
"But that doesn't mean I'm a bad guy; it just means I'm not the right guy."
"Right. The right guy is out there somewhere; I can already feel him. He is looking for me too. We just haven't met yet."
** I didn't actually mean that.