iIt was raining hard in Frisco
I needed one more fare to make my night/i
"Damn it!" I muttered and I watched through the rain as another cab swerved in front of me and skid to a stop beside a well dressed couple on the sidewalk.
"There goes twenty bucks," I continued to myself. It's strange how talking to yourself in front of others seems maniacal but when alone it seems entirely fitting. Now was one of those times when venting to myself was the only thing keeping me from rear-ending the other cab with my own. "Get a grip, Katie", I warned myself, still out loud, "An accident will cost way more then next weeks rent..." I still found it hard to believe that after 8 years of living on my own, I still had to worry day and night about where my next rent check would be coming from and fight to make enough every week by driving a cab through downtown San Francisco.
iA lady up ahead waved to flag me down
She got in at the light/i
As I drove desperately through the streets - slowing down for any prospective commuters who may want to come in from the rain - I spotted a flash of midnight blue ahead and a pale hand stretched, hailing me down. I swerved to the left and earned myself two horns honked for my troubles. I pulled up alongside the woman in blue and leaned across the taxi to prop open the passenger door because clearly the woman had her hands full holding her purse, and attempting to gather her gown in an orderly fashion. I was always looking for a way to charm my passengers into leaving a more generous tip then the usual dollar. On top of rent there''s food, heating, typewrite ink...
i"Oh where you going to, my lady blue
It's a shame you ruined your gown in the rain,"
She just looked out the window
She said "16 Parkside lane,"/i
As the woman turned in her seat I realized I hadn't had a chance to catch more than a glimpse of her features. As soon as she faced me my breath caught in my throat and the required 'Where to?' died on my lips. I could do nothing but stare. Her blond hair hung damp over her face, not at all lessening the effect of the radiant blue eyes. And as those eyes peered into my own I realized they weren't unfamiliar. I looked her up and down, for once not even trying to mask my scrutiny of a female customer. I knew it all. Those pale hands playing mindlessly with the trim of her dress, the curve of her hips within the blue material, the swell of her breasts accentuated by the low cut neckline. I had seen this woman before.
"16 Parkside Lane."
Her voice awakened me, made me realize I hadn't moved the taxi. There were cars lined up behind me, honking and waving. The girl in the seat beside me was staring at me as though I had grown another head. Perhaps I had, that would explain the sudden wooziness that came over me as I met her eyes again.
iSomething about her was familiar
I could swear I'd seen her face before
But she said "I'm sure you're mistaken,"
And she didn't say anything more/i
Before I even had time to think about it, to berate myself and tell myself not to be rude, it blurted out: "Do I know you?" Damn it! I just knocked a good 50 cents off of my tip. If there's one thing I've learned over the past 2 years in this job it was to keep my mouth shut. The passenger had to strike up conversation first or you're looking at 75 cents to a dollar, max. Sometimes people just want to be left alone.
The woman hesitated slightly before turning to look out the window "No." she said simply.
No? But that was impossible! I mean, it's true, I'd met - even had - my share of women but most of their faces have vanished in my mind before they''ve even made it all the way out of my bed much less the apartment. But something in those piercing eyes called to my mind, begged me to remember where I had seen them before. When had they once gazed into mine as they had only a minute ago?
I knew I shouldn't push it, but as usual my mouth had detached itself from my brain, "Are you sure? Because you look very fam..."
"You're mistaken, we've never met. I'm sorry," The way she added the last two words made me think that maybe she did recognize me but didn't want to address it. She couldn't possibly be one of those girls I'd never called back, could she? No, I would remember if I had been with a woman this beautiful. In fact, if I'd ever been with a girl this beautiful - this mesmerizing - I could never have let her go.
We drove in silence. Her house was past the suburbs, we were in for a long awkward drive if it kept up this way.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Her fingers were entwined with thread that she had pulled from her dress. I watched as she wrapped the string around her forefinger, loosely at first and then tight enough for the digit to turn a dark purple. I glanced at her face as she winced in pain. As I watched, her frown turned to a relieved smile. I could read the expression on her face. The feeling that any sensation is a good one, pain and pleasure are the same because they both mean you're alive. I recognized the expression because I felt the same a lot of the time. It's the result of a loneliness and longing that have combined into a desperation to feel anything at all. Life had become a long steam of these same emotions coursing through me as I drove. Day and night I drove my cab, watching happy people, sad people, lonely people climb in and out. Some told me their stories and each one made me long for what they had. Even if their story was a sad one, I still longed to have it because I had no story of my own. I knew no one in this city and had let go of all ties with anyone beyond it. Everyone who came into my life these days left just as quickly.
All I did was drive and dream of fantastic things and intriguing stories. Because that's what I did with all my need and all those strangers stories. I had no stories of my own and so I created some. I turned my feelings and my knowledge of these cab customers into greater stories, epic stories written each day at my typewriter. Writing was what I lived for, driving my cab was how I managed to live at all. If anyone has ever told you that being a writer is an easy life then just remember: people lie.
iIt took awhile but she looked in the mirror
Then she glanced at the licence for my name
A smile seemed to come to her slowly
It was a sad smile just the same/i
My eyes remained on the young woman as she glanced up at me and caught me staring. Her cheeks flushed and she smiled again, this time more certain. As soon as the slight smile reached her eyes and they shone their brilliant blue in the darkness, realization dawned and I nearly slammed on the brakes.
'Oh God, it's her...'
Once I'd made the connection, I couldn't grasp how it could have taken me so long to catch on. I studied her with my new knowledge and aside from her hair being darker blond and her face slightly more angular, the past 8 years hadn't changed her at all. No, that wasn't true. I sighed as I looked closer and noticed the sadness in her eyes and the permanent worry etched on her face. No, those hadn't been there before.
It was as though the realization showed in my eyes because as I watched she peered at me curiously and finally glanced at my licence and registration displayed on the dashboard.
iAnd she said "How are you Katie?"
I said "Jessie, how are you?
Through the too many miles and the too little smiles
I still remember you,"/i
She sighed, the sound that I remembered as having had so many meanings. "How are you Katie?"
It seemed ironic somehow for those to be her first words to me, knowing my identity now. It seemed ironic because clearly neither of us was 'fine' or 'ok' as the typical re-acquaintance conversation rules required me to answer.
So instead I simply laughed softly and returned with "Jessie, how are you?"
I needed one more fare to make my night/i
"Damn it!" I muttered and I watched through the rain as another cab swerved in front of me and skid to a stop beside a well dressed couple on the sidewalk.
"There goes twenty bucks," I continued to myself. It's strange how talking to yourself in front of others seems maniacal but when alone it seems entirely fitting. Now was one of those times when venting to myself was the only thing keeping me from rear-ending the other cab with my own. "Get a grip, Katie", I warned myself, still out loud, "An accident will cost way more then next weeks rent..." I still found it hard to believe that after 8 years of living on my own, I still had to worry day and night about where my next rent check would be coming from and fight to make enough every week by driving a cab through downtown San Francisco.
iA lady up ahead waved to flag me down
She got in at the light/i
As I drove desperately through the streets - slowing down for any prospective commuters who may want to come in from the rain - I spotted a flash of midnight blue ahead and a pale hand stretched, hailing me down. I swerved to the left and earned myself two horns honked for my troubles. I pulled up alongside the woman in blue and leaned across the taxi to prop open the passenger door because clearly the woman had her hands full holding her purse, and attempting to gather her gown in an orderly fashion. I was always looking for a way to charm my passengers into leaving a more generous tip then the usual dollar. On top of rent there''s food, heating, typewrite ink...
i"Oh where you going to, my lady blue
It's a shame you ruined your gown in the rain,"
She just looked out the window
She said "16 Parkside lane,"/i
As the woman turned in her seat I realized I hadn't had a chance to catch more than a glimpse of her features. As soon as she faced me my breath caught in my throat and the required 'Where to?' died on my lips. I could do nothing but stare. Her blond hair hung damp over her face, not at all lessening the effect of the radiant blue eyes. And as those eyes peered into my own I realized they weren't unfamiliar. I looked her up and down, for once not even trying to mask my scrutiny of a female customer. I knew it all. Those pale hands playing mindlessly with the trim of her dress, the curve of her hips within the blue material, the swell of her breasts accentuated by the low cut neckline. I had seen this woman before.
"16 Parkside Lane."
Her voice awakened me, made me realize I hadn't moved the taxi. There were cars lined up behind me, honking and waving. The girl in the seat beside me was staring at me as though I had grown another head. Perhaps I had, that would explain the sudden wooziness that came over me as I met her eyes again.
iSomething about her was familiar
I could swear I'd seen her face before
But she said "I'm sure you're mistaken,"
And she didn't say anything more/i
Before I even had time to think about it, to berate myself and tell myself not to be rude, it blurted out: "Do I know you?" Damn it! I just knocked a good 50 cents off of my tip. If there's one thing I've learned over the past 2 years in this job it was to keep my mouth shut. The passenger had to strike up conversation first or you're looking at 75 cents to a dollar, max. Sometimes people just want to be left alone.
The woman hesitated slightly before turning to look out the window "No." she said simply.
No? But that was impossible! I mean, it's true, I'd met - even had - my share of women but most of their faces have vanished in my mind before they''ve even made it all the way out of my bed much less the apartment. But something in those piercing eyes called to my mind, begged me to remember where I had seen them before. When had they once gazed into mine as they had only a minute ago?
I knew I shouldn't push it, but as usual my mouth had detached itself from my brain, "Are you sure? Because you look very fam..."
"You're mistaken, we've never met. I'm sorry," The way she added the last two words made me think that maybe she did recognize me but didn't want to address it. She couldn't possibly be one of those girls I'd never called back, could she? No, I would remember if I had been with a woman this beautiful. In fact, if I'd ever been with a girl this beautiful - this mesmerizing - I could never have let her go.
We drove in silence. Her house was past the suburbs, we were in for a long awkward drive if it kept up this way.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Her fingers were entwined with thread that she had pulled from her dress. I watched as she wrapped the string around her forefinger, loosely at first and then tight enough for the digit to turn a dark purple. I glanced at her face as she winced in pain. As I watched, her frown turned to a relieved smile. I could read the expression on her face. The feeling that any sensation is a good one, pain and pleasure are the same because they both mean you're alive. I recognized the expression because I felt the same a lot of the time. It's the result of a loneliness and longing that have combined into a desperation to feel anything at all. Life had become a long steam of these same emotions coursing through me as I drove. Day and night I drove my cab, watching happy people, sad people, lonely people climb in and out. Some told me their stories and each one made me long for what they had. Even if their story was a sad one, I still longed to have it because I had no story of my own. I knew no one in this city and had let go of all ties with anyone beyond it. Everyone who came into my life these days left just as quickly.
All I did was drive and dream of fantastic things and intriguing stories. Because that's what I did with all my need and all those strangers stories. I had no stories of my own and so I created some. I turned my feelings and my knowledge of these cab customers into greater stories, epic stories written each day at my typewriter. Writing was what I lived for, driving my cab was how I managed to live at all. If anyone has ever told you that being a writer is an easy life then just remember: people lie.
iIt took awhile but she looked in the mirror
Then she glanced at the licence for my name
A smile seemed to come to her slowly
It was a sad smile just the same/i
My eyes remained on the young woman as she glanced up at me and caught me staring. Her cheeks flushed and she smiled again, this time more certain. As soon as the slight smile reached her eyes and they shone their brilliant blue in the darkness, realization dawned and I nearly slammed on the brakes.
'Oh God, it's her...'
Once I'd made the connection, I couldn't grasp how it could have taken me so long to catch on. I studied her with my new knowledge and aside from her hair being darker blond and her face slightly more angular, the past 8 years hadn't changed her at all. No, that wasn't true. I sighed as I looked closer and noticed the sadness in her eyes and the permanent worry etched on her face. No, those hadn't been there before.
It was as though the realization showed in my eyes because as I watched she peered at me curiously and finally glanced at my licence and registration displayed on the dashboard.
iAnd she said "How are you Katie?"
I said "Jessie, how are you?
Through the too many miles and the too little smiles
I still remember you,"/i
She sighed, the sound that I remembered as having had so many meanings. "How are you Katie?"
It seemed ironic somehow for those to be her first words to me, knowing my identity now. It seemed ironic because clearly neither of us was 'fine' or 'ok' as the typical re-acquaintance conversation rules required me to answer.
So instead I simply laughed softly and returned with "Jessie, how are you?"