Who Am I?

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A nobody; a nitwit; a pilot; a motorcyclist; a raconteur; a lover...of life - who loves to laugh, who tries to not take myself (or anything) too seriously...just a normal guy who knows his place in the universe by being in touch with my spiritual side. What more is there?

20 March 2018

Cab Driver Stories: A Very Strange Encounter

And how's your day going? How's your life? Most people, when you ask them how they're doing, they'll give you answer like, "Oh, I can't complain - nobody listens anyway."  I'm never sure if they really do want to complain and want me to probe further. I usually don't. I hate long-winded stories.

(Unless I'm writing them, of course.)

I got a call to go pick up a woman on Monday morning out on Pensacola Beach. The driver who gave me the trip knew this woman; she was evidently a frequent visitor to our town. She was traveling by herself, which is kind of odd. People who come to Pensacola on business usually don't stay out on the beach, especially in the winter.

The weekend had been blah weather-wise. It had rained on Friday; Saturday was “okay,” but Sunday started off foggy-foggy and later turned rainy.  Then on the way to the beach on Monday morning, I ran through some of the thickest fog I've ever seen. Visibility could only have been 500 feet or so.

I arrived early, well prior to the scheduled 0930 pickup time, and was surprised to see her walk right out of the hotel to my cab. She seemed preoccupied. She was holding her phone (doesn't everyone these days?) and already had her headphones on. Her general attitude was one of, “don't bother me.” And in fact she seemed kind of surly as we greeted each other.

On the way to the airport I asked, as I always do, where she was headed back to?

"Allentown, Pennsylvania,” she replied without much enthusiasm.

I sympathized. It's been a weird winter for most of the country. She said that they'd just got dumped on with snow...in March!...and that she was tired of it.

I asked what brought her to Pensacola Beach of all places?

”Ohhh, vacation,” she replied flatly. ”I needed to get away from my job. Things were pretty crazy. If I didn't leave I probably would've gotten fired.”

Well damn! Since she brought it up, I asked what she did for a living?

”I'm a nurse.”

When I asked about the stress at work, she just stared out the window into the nothingness beyond the guardrail where Pensacola Bay should have been.

”I don't want to get into it,” she said quietly but firmly.

Fair enough. You can't force people to talk.

However I did feel it necessary to mention that I envied her and all those like her. “People who work in the medical field are special,” I said, which I really do believe. I truly admire doctors, EMT's nurses...cops - everyone who deals with the public when they are not exactly at their best.  

I went on, “You guys see people at their worst. People never go to a hospital when they feel good. When they get to you they're usually in some dire situation.”  I was taking a stab, trying to make her feel good about herself and her chosen profession.

”Thanks,” she said weakly.

I added that I couldn't do what she does...didn't know how she did...how she dealt with that day after day. Finally I said that if society depended on people like me to care for the sick and the hurt, a whole lot of people would die.

”Well, some people deserve to die,” she remarked with an iciness that sent a chill down my spine.

Whoa.

What do you say to something like that? Honestly I did not know how to respond. I figured I'd better not say anything for the rest of the trip. And I didn't.

At the airport, I told her that I hoped everything would work out, job-wise, and said optimistically that the winter would be over soon. As I watched her walk into the terminal, I thought about the life to which she was returning. Surely the same problems would still be there that have made her so bitter and depressed.

And I drove away, reflecting as I do after such encounters. I thought about how blessed I am and how sometimes I feel a little guilty that my life is so great right now. I am debt-free (no credit card debt and all my cars and motorcycles are paid-off); I work when I want; and I'm healthy. For me, life could not be better if I were Donald J. Trump.  But it sure is not for everybody!

2 comments:

Bob said...

Well you tried. This lady obviously had a lot going on, most of which she didn’t feel compelled to share. Too bad — it might have helped. I have a feeling she walked right back into the stressful situation from which she had come. I also have a great deal of respect for those in the medical field. And I have observed, with rare exception like the lady you drove, most of them enjoy and have a real passion for what they do.

Bob Barbanes: said...

Indeed they do, Bob! For the most part, as you say. I was just recently the unhappy visitor to the Emergency Room at one of our local hospitals. Though their bureaucracy is hopeless to navigate with any degree of swiftness, the people doing the jobs were great - as you would hope!