So, I booked a taxi online tonight. And didnt specify which kind. A maxi cab showed up: a minivan mixed with a limo here but really just a soccer-mom-mobile. Theyre fugly and expensive. The driver rolled down the window for me so I could explain it was just me and not a party of people: Hiiii, I think I accidentally booked a taxi larger than I need. No, I was just closest on satellite and came because had no big parties. Do you want a ride? Yeah, sure, but I thought it was a minimum of $50 in a maxi? No no hop in. Ill take you wherever you need to go... You should get in the far back so you feel like a baller. Um. Awesome. Thanks. Climb into back of minivan limo and look around for cleats and soccer ball or Gatorade. No dice. We drive. Driver turns stereo on. The Verve. Bittersweet Symphony. Driver cranks volume to max. Begins singing along at the absolute top of his lungs. The man is singing his heart out. Singing like his life depends on it. Baring his heart to me. In broken English. And it. Is. Awesome. Like soul baring brave and awful awesome. Have you ever heard someone yell the words bittersweet symphony, when English, and definitely American English, are not his first languages? This man owned it. We arrive in that weird silence between songs when you share something too private with a stranger. I asked him when he was getting disco lights and a mic installed. And fake dropped his mic on the ground after our duet. Then gave him my card. And sincerely thanked him for making my day. Seriously. Besties for life. I love this industry. Because hospitality.
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 15:22:23 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015