Jun 18 2006
Riding in Cars with Boys
The cab pulled up outside my house at 5:15AM this morning.
“Happy Father’s Day, Honey.” I whispered as I kissed the best father in the world good-bye. Unspoken, in the air, were the words “Three kids, all to yourself, I’ll be back in a week. Enjoy.” God, I hate business travel. The cab ride to the airport was fun.
I had The Comedian, so desperately in need of an audience. All day, I’m sure, the same routine over and over for an audience of one or two at a time. It occurred to me that most cab rides could be easily classified in one of the following buckets:
The Cab Where All Air-Fresheners Go To Die
It assaults you the moment you step into the cab – the AIR FRESHENER scent. And the whole label is a misnomer because that fucking air couldn’t be any less fresh. If you didn’t have allergies upon entering that vehicle, I’m convinced you’ll have them by the end of the ride. I hate this cab.
The Propaganda Cab
During this ride, the driver is going to fish you out to see if you might be like-minded. Who knows, maybe you’ll want to join his white supremacy group or subscribe to his conspiracy theory newsletter. It’s a careful dance, this one, because he first must see that you are on his side and won’t call in to complain about the lunatic cab driver who would not shut-up about the second amendment right to bear arms. Be careful with this guy – even if he is the biggest, scariest pig around, you don’t want to get on his bad side. He takes his platform very seriously.
The Rolling Stand-Up Comedy Store
This poor guy is a frustrated comic who couldn’t cut it. He really needs an audience and will tell his stories and jokes the whole way. If you listen very carefully, you might just hear the rim shot that hangs in the air after every bad joke.
He’s Lonely, He’s Mister Lonely
The saddest of them all, this driver just craves human company, human connection. He will reach out and seek some common ground. He has grandkids, do you have grandkids? He likes to garden. He has lived in the same house since his birth. He loves baseball. He
Jeeves, the Chauffeur
This might be my favorite, as much as it feeds my ego. Sure, it’s a yellow taxi cab but it might as well be a stretch limo the way the driver acts. He closes the partition to give you your privacy. He drives with the utmost care and is so polite you want to take him home and introduce him to your mother. He makes you feel like a queen or head of state.
I got to the airport at 5:45AM. I thought I’d get a nice tall Starbuck’s vanilla mocha, but as I approached the entranceway, I saw a sea of teenagers in green shirts – a tour group of some kind. My radar went off “Danger, danger, warning Will Robinson. Do not enter this alcove. Nothing good can come of it.” So I continued down the airport concourse.
Down to gate C12.
Where there were dozens more teenagers in green shirts. AT MY GATE. This is payback for the time I complained about my plane ride with the senior citizens tour group, isn’t it?
TEENAGERS. Why the fuck aren’t they out having lukewarm scrambled eggs at some buffet with their DADS? Oh, well, it’s only a 1 hour flight to Chicago. I’m just sure my London flight won’t have a tour group. Right?
PS Fucking Podunk St. Louis airport doesn’t even have wi-fi. I’m typing this post in MS Word and intend to edit and complete it by the time I hit Chicago where I can get online and post it. What is the DEALIO, St. Louis? Can I loan you a couple hundred bucks to put some fucking access points in? Sheesh, I’m embarrassed.
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