Being the forever frazzled New Yorker that I am, I rushed out of LAX. I needed to get away from the crowds of tourists, despite now being a tourist myself.
I received a phone call from Rick, my cab driver. He was trying to find me in the mass of people. Same. I finally located his car, he loaded my bags in the trunk and I hopped inside.
I was hoping to continue the phone call I started with my mom, but I could already sense that Rick wanted to talk, so I hung up and texted her, “He’s a chatty one, I’ll call you back. “My mind drifted back to my cab ride back in New York to JFK. I don’t remember that driver’s name, but he asked me if I was okay because I was extremely quiet. It was 4 am. I thought, “No, I am not okay. Mostly because you are talking to me. At 4 am.”
I told Rick that it was my first time in LA. He was excited for me and gave me a quick rundown of the neighborhoods. “Do you speak Spanish?” he asked. “Un poquito,” I responded. We both laughed. I had long given up on practicing and perfecting my Spanish ever since an ancestry.com discovery changed my life. That’s not a good excuse. Maybe I’ll revisit it— the language and THAT story another time.
I also learned that Rick picks up passengers in the morning and then spends the rest of the day at a senior center; he’s very social and likes meeting new people. We talked about politics, NY vs. LA, and public transportation. He told me about three times that I would move to LA. Not should. Would. “You belong here,” he said.
At some point in the ride, in between talking about The Cheeto and one of his ex-girlfriends from long ago I thought to myself, “This conversation was everything. I’ll probably hug him at the end of the ride. But how awkward would that be?”
About half an hour later, we arrived at my destination. I was a bit disappointed that my ride was over but excited to start my vacation, a new adventure. He retrieved my bag from the trunk. We were saying our good-byes and I was about to walk away when he asked, “Do you want a hug?”
I didn’t hesitate, “Yes.”
“You need good energy,” he said, “everyone needs good energy.”
In my day-to-day New York City life, I often feel beat down, exhausted and defeated. Sometimes it’s just one of those on any particular day; sometimes it’s all three simultaneously.
“You’re right,” I replied.
He got back in his car and drove away.
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