CROSSING THE DELAWARE

My first assignment back on the road was picking up a car in Maryland to drive to Bonita Springs, Florida. I flew to Baltimore, then took a train way outside of town, nearly to the northern Maryland border. There I was met at the train station by elderly Mrs. Sherman, who lived in a nearby town that no trains, buses, or rental cars ever visited.

"Climb in, and be quick about it. We have a long ride ahead of us," she told me. This was confusing, for I had measured the distance at 14 miles from the train to her town. And for someone who seemed to be in a hurry, she never drove more than 30mph, even though the speed limit was 50mph.

As we pulled into her small, quaint town, she announced, "I am going to give you a tour of my little town now, which you will want to thank me for. Tell me your name again?"

"Bill Thomas."

"First name?"

"Bill."

"One more time?"

"Bill."

"Bill, of course. Bill, I am 92 years old and I still have a lot of years ahead of me." She paused and nodded.

"That's great, good for you."

She looked at me with a hurt expression. "Please don't interrupt me, Bill, I'm trying to give you a tour. Now, over there is where someone very famous once gave a speech during the Civil War. Do you know who that was?"

"No, Mrs. Sherman."

"Oh dear. I was hoping that you would know, I seem to have forgotten. Now, if you look out your window to the right, you'll see the spot where General George Washington crossed the Delaware. Do you know why he crossed there?"

"No, ma'am."

"Because it was the most narrow part of the river. By the way, George Washington went on to become our first President of these United States." We drove past a park where a large group of geese were congregating. "Look over there, Bill. Those are Canadian geese that you see. Now I know what you're thinking, they look like ducks, but they are not. Those are Canadian geese."

"Yes, ma'am." Moments later, we pulled into her driveway, and she said to come inside the house so she could give me a tour.

"Bill, I have a nice home here and one in Florida. And the reason is that I married three very wealthy men and outlived them all. Of course, I didn't plan it that way, it's just the way things turned out. They died. But I am still very much alive."

I had her sign the paperwork, then began my journey down to Florida. It was rather uneventful, except for her phone calls to me once an hour. "Bill, where are you now? And how is my car doing? Do you have plenty of gas?"

On the second day, she called to see when I would be meeting her in Florida. I asked what time she'd get to Bonita Springs.

"Well Bill, I am flying into the Ft. Myers airport, so you can pick me up there and drive me to Bonita Springs."

"I'm very sorry Mrs. Sherman, but the company will not allow me to take passengers when I'm driving a car. It's an insurance issue."

"Don't worry about it, Bill. Your boss said it would be OK."

So I called the boss Riff to verify this, and he laughed and told me that they never had any such conversation. Then Riff said, "She's just trying to avoid taking a cab, that would run her nearly $100 for that distance. You know what, go ahead and pick her up at the airport, help an old lady out."

"I don't mind, as long as you've cleared it."

The next day, I timed it to be at the airport exactly as she came off the plane, and drove around and around until she walked out. She seemed very surprised to see me, and asked, "How in the world did you get here just as I walked out?"

"I'm good at my job."

"Yes you are. You certainly are. And no one can say differently. Now, let me show you some of the interesting sights on the drive down to Bonita Springs." There was not a lot to see on the Interstate highway we were on, but she pointed to trees and told me what kind they were. And she also kindly identified some birds she saw, or perhaps thought she saw. Though she swore she saw a flock of pink flamingos crossing in front of us on I-75, I did not see them.

As we pulled into the driveway of her condo complex, she asked me how I intended to get out of Bonita Springs. "I'll take a city bus to Avis rental cars, then drive to Miami to pick up my next car."

"OK, Bill, well you just unload my car for me and then you can be on your way."

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Sherman, but we aren't allowed to ever touch a customer's private belongings. It is a very strict rule, so the company won't be liable for anything."

"Oh now don't you worry, I spoke to your boss and he said it would be fine."

Well, I didn't want to pull out my cell phone and call Riff. So I made an executive decision there on the spot. For goodness sake, this lady was 92, and I do have a heart. And that heart was tugging at me.

What I didn't count on was just how much stuff she had. The backseat was loaded, but then I opened the trunk. A big Cadillac can have lots of trunk space, and she had some huge suitcases fully loaded. And one steamer trunk. Snowbirds pack heavily. I started with the first load, and she told me that her unit was on the third floor, just next to the elevator. When I arrived at the elevator doors on the first floor, I found a large sign "OUT OF ORDER." Which of course meant that I had to carry all of her stuff up the stairs. It was a rare hot and humid day in south Florida, and I was sweating enough to fill a swimming pool.

After ten trips, I was drenched, and my clothes were plastered to me. I went to Mrs. Sherman to have her sign the paperwork so I could go. As she opened her purse, she said to me, "Thank you so much. Now Bill, I can tell that you are a man of integrity, and that is why I will not insult you by offering you a gratuity." She pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed her forehead with it. "Have a grand and wonderful day."

I picked up my duffel bag and started to walk to the bus stop. And I wondered if when she told me that she wouldn't insult me with a gratuity, maybe I should have said, "I spoke to my boss and he said it would be OK."

CRAZY JUNE

I continue to be amazed at the surprisingly amount of odd people I meet as I drive around the country delivering cars. More often than not, truth is stranger than fiction.

I was about to deliver a car in Las Vegas, and decided to pull over and find something to eat. As I was walking through a parking lot, I saw a woman stooped over between two cars, and I thought she was ill. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

She stood and pulled her pants up, and I could see that she had been squatting to pee. "Steve, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."

"Excuse me?"

"No, oh no, you don't have to apologize to me, Steve. Not now, not ever. I love you so much, always have and always will. I never should have left you. We both know that you did me wrong, but I know in your heart that you love me."

"I think you've got me confused with someone else. My name is Bill."

"What the hell are you talking about, Steve? It's me, June, your lover. How are you gonna be treating me like that? After all I've done for you, all the wild sex that we had, all the sexual positions I got into just for you! You can't squeeze me like a piece of ripe fruit then toss me out the window. No sir, it doesn't work like that! Not at all!" And with that, she ran away from me in tears. I decided to shrug it off, and turned and walked in the other direction through the parking lot.

A few seconds later, June popped up from behind a cargo van and said, "Hi lover, I've decided to forgive you. I have to admit you were mean to me, but I can't help loving my man."

"Uh, listen, I think that--"

She put her hand over my mouth. "Hush now, Steve, I only want to hear about how much you love me. Come and whisper into my ear how much you love me." She pulled close and put her ear up to my mouth.

"But really, I--"

Once again, her hand covered my mouth. "Not another word, Steve. I only want to hear sweet sounds coming from your sweet mouth. Come on and dance with me, Steve, dance with me the way you did at the Senior Prom." She wrapped her arms around me and forced both of our bodies to sway. She rested her head on my shoulder and was in a state of bliss as the music played in her head.

I pushed her away after a moment, and told her "No, stop."

"What in the world is the matter with you, Steve?"

"What's the matter is that I don't know you."

"You mean you don't want to know me!" She became enraged. "You dirty son of a bitch. You think you can treat me like some slut, some common whore, then just throw me out on the trash bin? Is that the way you want to play? Well, two can play this game!" She stormed away in a huff, and I made my way more rapidly through the parking lot. I hoped I had seen that last of her.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, she grabbed me from behind and said seductively "Hi Sugar Buns. My white chocolate lover."

I shook my head and sighed. "Lady, please just--"

"I have to respect the man I love. I always make it a rule to respect my elders, whether they're older than me or younger than me. Now shut up and dance with me, do the dance of love!" She began an energetic dance, taking my hands and sort of forcing me to dance along. I was a bit dazed by it all, and hung on for a few moments as she led me in her little Dance of Insanity.

When I pulled away from her, she said "I know now what's wrong with you, Steve. My man needs some good loving." She dug into her huge handbag and began pulling out condoms, handcuffs and various sex toys, enthusiastically trying to hand them off to me. "I know how to treat my man." Then she reached down and took a big handful of my manhood and squeezed.

"Hey! You can't do that, you can't just grab me like that."

"Why not? What's the problem, Steve?"

"Quit calling me Steve. You have mistaken me for someone else, and--"

She interrupted me by giving my face a solid slap. "I am done with you. We are officially over. You are both a bitch and a bastard." She turned on her heel and marched off. Then she stopped and faced me one last time. "And one more thing. I know a lot more about nuclear science than you might think I do." She hurried over to an empty pickup truck, threw her handbag in the back, and sat on the back bumper. She yelled at a non-existent driver "Step on it Raoul, I've got to get to Miami."

I decided to skip the meal and get back into my car and keep on driving. I had nothing against June, but clearly she was a lady whose mind has its own address in another universe. And I remain A Driving Fool.