Let's Go Drop Some Eaves.

Eavesdropping is rude, and I do my best not to listen. But what is a working driver to do when people insist on using the phone within earshot? Towncars aren't equipped with a compartment divider like the stretched limos, so as much as I try to tune out, it's sometimes beyond me.

The secret is that customer phone calls often keep me awake. Even our airport trips are at least an hour one-way, so accidentally overheard private conversations alleviate the hypnotic effect of the freeway. It's a safety enhancer, right?

This morning's job is a case in point. The 4:30 am pickup was in a nice gated community, the likes of which Florida is infested - fancy golf-course, large lots, big houses, families. I know this family; thankfully they're normal.

Except this morning. When the front door finally opened at 4:45 am, I heard raised voices. An argument? Before sunup? Who has the energy?

One of the daughters was returning to college. Her mother was at her, talking overly loudly, clearly agitated. The father looked harried, still half asleep, appearing to need a stiff drink.

With the usual "Oh, I forgot my....." rush back inside, we left at 4:55, to the sound of Miss texting furiously in the back seat. Interesting, I thought, to whom is she texting at that time? Not her college room-mate, I'd guess.

After about ten minutes, she called her mother, and here's what I learned from the conversation over the next forty minutes:

- she attended college in a distant state
- she'd acquired a boyfriend eight months ago, of whom the parents disapproved
- parents had predicted it would end badly
- this last weekend, parents flew to see daughter
- they didn't tell her they were coming
- they arrived on her doorstep with the intention of having her ditch the b/f
- that didn't go so well
- the three of them returned to Florida
- it was a tense weekend
- the parents wanted to tell the b/f directly he was no longer welcome to date their daughter
- daughter thought this was an over-reaction
- daughter wanted to break-up her own way
- parents weren't convinced
- daughter now tired of parents "controlling every damn thing in my life"
- she won't have time to see the b/f this semester anyway

Thank goodness for family drama. My driving was particularly alert and smooth this morning.




Early cellphone photo from here [link]

Misunderestimation

You have seen me at airports, in the baggage claim area. I'm the guy with the long-sleeved white shirt and tie, suit vest or jacket, and a sign with a name on it. The name will be that of the person I'm meeting.

I wear a look of distant boredom. Making eye contact with hundreds of strangers is tiring, so I focus on the middle distance and try to appear like I'm not scoping out the fun parts of ladies.

Time passes. The object is to find my customer amongst the sea of transitory humans who are all, also, looking for someone. Hence the sign.

The sign is important for two reasons. It keeps most people away - I'm someone else's and I'm not available to dance. The sign is meant for the one with whom I have been promised a dance. Sure, it's an odd kind of dance involving them sitting behind me while I drive, me being super-polite, and me be transparently obsequious, but it's a dance nonetheless.

Which is why today was so odd. I was there, looking blank, with a sign. The people who were looking for me saw the sign. They decided not to make themselves known to me.

The people - a mother and two teens - didn't know the steps of the dance. I saw them look and point, but people do that all the time. They didn't look, point and then walk up to me.

That's the way the dance works; I do not know you, and likewise you do not know me. It's my job to provide the sign, and it's your job to recognize your name. And then walk up and stand in front of me. If you choose not to participate in the dance, even after you have said you would, be not surprised if I go home.



Pic from here [link]

Christmas 2009

For some, holidays are holy days. For others, holidays are time for feasts, or family or falling asleep. To me they're a time for work, to get ahead on bills, make some jink.

Christmas Day 2009 saw me driving a regular customer and his wife to her sister's place about an hour south of here. I did the same thing a couple of years ago, and it's interesting to note the differences.

That time, he was quite grumpy about going. He could have been in a bad mood, but the dynamic was that he was pissed off with the wife, and didn't want to talk. In my experience of these folks, he generally wants nothing but to be left alone with his book anyway, notwithstanding any marital tension.

This Christmas she had obviously presented him an iPod. He sat back there, ear-buds in, fiddling with it while she gave him verbal instructions, quietly at first, but then louder when she failed to get through over the music. Funny how rich older folks end up in the same position as children when presented with the new. That's not meant as a criticism. Childlike is fine as far as I'm concerned, implying discovery of the new. Childish, though, is quite another thing.

Small comments are telling. As they stepped out, he said to me to be back at 4:00 pm, ready for the trip home. She said, sotto voce, words to the effect that he loves his brother-in-law....for the first two hours. Funny, really. Families are the same everywhere.





Photo by me.

Also published here. [link]