Last night my plane was delayed, I came into Oakland at like 11:00, the airport was insanely crowded and I couldn't decide what to do. A cab would have been super expensive, negating the whole point of flying out of Oakland in the first place. I couldn't find a shuttle ... finally got on the bus to BART. like 100 people packed on to that bus which I minded more than usual because I had just finished reading G. & M. with the horrible journey in the crowded truck being gassed with carbon monoxide. Okay! Cheerful!
Then I was lucky enough to catch a train, immediately, right to Milbrae. An hour long ride in which I finished "The Warrior Who Carried Life" and enjoyed it very much though I was about to die of exhaustion and back pain and knee pain. In which I regretted not having paid 80 bucks for a taxi, sort of. Milbrae. Drunk woman gets in the elevator with me... mother of god... reeking... belligerent... would not stop talking... slowest elevator in the world.... But then my cab driver made up for it all. He was a shaved-headed punk (not a skinhead...) in classic 1983ish outfit with leather and chains and flannel shirt with sleeves ripped off worn as a vest and a mild puppyish demeanor. "Are you in a band?" he asked me. He was... until his band members were not serious enough. He talked about the process of composing punk rock music. "You start by laying down a foundation. Maybe with bass, or guitar, or drums. If your drum guy shows up. Then you can just sort of jam and get ideas from that. It takes a long time to write a song. Actually, pardon my french but helps to be really wasted." Awesome! Funny!
Somehow the conversation expanded to include totally inappropriate-to-cab-rides concepts such as spinning out on the highway, The Cramps, Tribe 8, and sexual identities and the way that punk rock people "think about sexual things a lot, like, alternative things", which came off half creepy but which I was reading as a nice, welcoming realization and commentary that he might have a dyke in the van (which was a "Limo" but which was like, the crappiest personal car ever with a "Taxi" thing stuck up on top and a CB radio.) I planned my exit route to jump out of the van or dial 911 hopelessly on my cell while smashing his nose up into his brain -- with about 2% of my consciousness (and wondering just how high are you right this very minute?) but the other 98% was taking the earnest wastoid demeanor for reality. I knew an awful lot of guys like that in high school. And college. I couldn't figure out if he was 45 or 22, but I'm betting closer to 22.
Periodically he goes to Taiwan to teach English. I wish I'd gotten the name of his old band. Hi, funny punk cab driver!
Next time you're stranded in Oakland, call me! I'd be glad to drive you back to your place. It's all about getting the good highway mileage. ;)
Posted by: Madeline F | October 24, 2006 at 06:58 PM
if im in ur place i'l prefer the limousine shuttle taxi services.You are really great.
Posted by: linda | October 27, 2006 at 02:53 AM