DON'T ASK, DON'T TELL

It had been a hard couple of weeks for me.  So I was happy to be taking a car to Richmond, and just had a good feeling in my gut that this time I would catch up with Karen.  I had not seen her since she left Indianapolis, and I needed some of her loving friendship.  Badly.

I arrived in Richmond the day before I was set to deliver.  I went straight to the Garden Of Eat'n Cafe, and I looked in the window to see her.  My heart leaped to new heights, and I felt so good all over.  She didn't see me, but I stood there for a moment just watching her.  Enjoying her glow, her sweet and simple beauty.  And yes, her shiny blonde hair.  I love this woman.

And then something completely unexpected happened.  Her ex-girlfriend Cheryl stepped out from the kitchen door.  They spoke for a minute, and laughed together.  Then Cheryl leaned in close and kissed Karen on the lips.  Suddenly, my heart sunk.

When Cheryl walked back into the kitchen, Karen turned and looked out the window.  Her face lit up and she ran to the door to greet me.  "Hey you!" she said cheerfully.

"Hey gal."

"Get over here quick and give me a hug.  Its been too long."

I walked over and hugged her, though I must admit that she was hugging tighter than me.  "How have you been?"

"The question is, how have You been?  I thought you would have come to visit me before now."

"I did come, several times.  You were either gone the days I came, or the Cafe was closed."

Karen looked down at her feet for a minute.  "Uh, yeah, well I made a few trips back to Indy.  There was some stuff to take care of."

"Cheryl?"

"Yes, Cheryl, is that a problem?" she asked in a defensive tone.

"No, no.  I'm just a little confused.  I thought you moved here partly to get away from her."

"I did, partly.  But she... I mean we...  Bill, she wrote me poetry.  No girl has ever written me poetry."

"I used to write you stories all the time."

"You're not a girl, silly."

"Thank God for that."

Karen looked at me with an odd expression.  "Am I detecting a little attitude from you?"

I shrugged.  "I just thought we'd have more quality time together."

She nodded.  "I think I know what you thought.  What did you think, Bill?  That because I broke up with my girlfriend I wasn't gay anymore?"

"Clearly you haven't broken up with your girlfriend."

"We did, but... well, she missed me.  And I guess I missed her, too."

I shuffled my feet around.  "Does she live here now?"

She shook her head no.  "She is just here for an extended visit.  She doesn't like it here.  I think she wants me to move back to Indy."

"Are you gonna?"

"Would that be a problem for you?"

"I don't know, Karen, would it be a problem for you?"

She gave me an appraising look.  "I don't like you like this.  Your kind heart just flew out the window."

"Sorry."

"No, I don't think you are.  I was going to invite you in for a bite, but I don't need the negativity in my Cafe."

"Alright, then."  I began to walk away.

She stepped towards me and grabbed my hand.  "Hey."  I turned around.  "Get this crap out of your system then come back and see me.  OK?"  She paused.  "You know I love you, right?"

"Love you, too," I mumbled.  And then I got into the car and drove away.

THE PRESIDENT'S NIECE

I was told by my boss Riff to pick up a car from a lady in Florida. The car was going to her horse ranch up in Virginia, 30 miles outside of Washington, D.C. And he told me that she was the great niece of a famous former President of the United States.

Riff called me at the last minute to say that another driver would be meeting me at her Florida mansion. He said that she had two cars, and that we were to drive them north in tandem. When I walked up her driveway, I heard a male voice say loudly, “It’s you!” Out from behind a big tree stepped Andy, the paranoid driver who I had come across several times in the past. He was obviously high as a kite.

“Hello Andy,” I said.

“Don’t call me that. Do not call me Andy like we are friends. You always conspire against me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean you to mistake me for being a friend. I was just trying to be polite and civil.”

“Don’t try any of that stuff either. Hear me? I’ve had just about enough of you, Mister. I know you and your game, you are out to get me!”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Oh no, you can’t just blow me off like yesterday’s news. We are being forced to work together, to ride in tandem, to caravan together. So just remember that I’m in charge.”

“I’ll be going my own way, I suggest you do the same.”

“You will be subservient to me, you will follow my directions. You follow me? Cuz if you don’t, I will punish you. I will come down on you like the wrath of God, or worse, like the wrath of a woman scorned. God has no wrath like a woman scorned!”

The lady walked out the door. She seemed distracted and a little bit haughty. I tried to shush Andy. “Shh, quiet, here she comes,” I pleaded.

“Don’t you shush me, I will not be shushed.”

“Shh!”

“I will not be shushed by the likes of you. Say, do you know who her father is?”

“Andy, shut up.” She stepped up to us. “Hello ma’am, I’m Bill Thomas and he’s Andy.”

“Fine. Who is driving the Escalade?” She held out a set of keys.

Andy stepped forward and snatched the keys from her hand. “That will be my honor. I am the best driver in our company, and proud of it. By the way, I loved your father. He was the best leader this country ever had.”

She let out a resigned sigh. “He was my great uncle.”

Andy winked at her. “I know he was, I just bet he was. You guys must be rich, based on what I’m seeing here. How much would you say you’re worth, total assets?”

The woman looked perturbed and not a little shocked. “That’s none of your business. Just do your job.”

Andy acted like he was trying to flirt. He leered at her and spoke suggestively. “You do YOUR job.” Much as I don’t care about Andy, I was feeling embarrassed for him. He was so clueless.

She turned to me. “So you’ll be driving my Mercedes?”

“Yes. I will be there day after tomorrow.” She turned and went back into the house.

Andy began to give me instructions about how we were going to drive, when we were going to take breaks. I completely ignored him, climbing into the Mercedes sedan and taking off. The car was so full that there was barely enough room for me and my duffel bag. She had loaded it beyond capacity, and I was worried that I couldn’t see out the back window.

It was a long hard drive up to Virginia. There were a whole lot of snowbirds going up I-95 from Florida to their summer homes in the northeastern states. The problem with all these many senior citizens on the road all at once is that some of them go 65mph, some 60, and some 50. It causes a whole lot of unnecessary traffic backups. Especially when the ones going 50mph get in the left lane and just stay there. Most people just line up behind them like there is no other choice. I personally get into the right lane and cruise on by them. The speed limit is 70, and that is what I intend to do.

I called the former President’s niece early on the day I was set to deliver. She was not answering her phone, so I simply told her voicemail what time I would arrive. As I neared her horse ranch, the roads got more winding and narrow, and following the Mapquest instructions became increasingly difficult. The final dirt road that led five miles to her property was one lane, and made things tricky when an huge truck came towards me from the opposite direction. I had to press the car on the side as close as I could snuggle up to a barbed wire fence. Even then, I was not too sure that the truck would get by me. There were literally inches to spare.

When I pulled up in front of her ranch house, she came marching out in a huff and put her hands on her hips. “Where is the other guy?”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“The guy driving my Escalade. He left a very strange message for me this morning saying that he was going to take some time and stop at Civil War battlefields along the way. He said my father would understand.”

“I think he meant your great uncle.”

“I know what he meant. I don’t care what he meant. Where is my Escalade?”

“I think you should call my boss Riff.”

“No, I’m asking you.”

“No disrespect meant, but I got your Mercedes here safely. I can’t be responsible for another driver.” Especially when it’s Andy, I thought to myself.

“Leave the car there, I’m going inside to call your boss. You may leave.”

“I have to wait for the airport shuttle to come and pick me up.”

“Honestly, I am not happy with you waiting here on my property.”

I looked around at the vast nothingness. “I’m not sure where else I can wait.”

“Just please make yourself scarce.” She stormed inside, very unhappy.

I walked up the driveway to the dirt road, guessing I could see the shuttle better when it came to pick me up. As I walked along, a large mocha colored dog came running up to me. He really wanted to be friends, and I really love dogs. So I bent down and petted him. He licked me on the face. After a few minutes, I continued up the driveway, and he followed me. The woman came out the door and began to shout. “Potus! Potus! Come back here.” The dog didn’t budge. “Potus, get down here right now! Potus! I will whip you if you don’t get down here.” I felt sorry for the dog. I would not want this woman to be mad at me, but Potus seemed happy to hang out with me. So I started walking back down towards the house, and the dog followed me. She pointed at me. “What are you doing?” she said, sounding confused and nervous.

“What?”

“Why are you coming back into my yard?”

“The dog is following me.”

“The dog is coming because I called the dog. You can stay up by the road.” I stopped, and the dog stopped next to me. The woman seemed irritated. She turned on her heel and went into the house. Then she came back out onto the porch carrying a raw steak. “Potus!” The dog went bounding towards her, and she went into the house. The dog followed her, and she slammed the door hard.

As I stood waiting for the airport shuttle, my cell phone rang. “Hello, Riff.”

“I just got a very upset call from the lady you delivered to. She said you were molesting her dog.”

“I pet the dog, that’s all.”

“Why in the world did you deliver without Andy?”

“Because Andy is a flake. He called the lady and said he is stopping to tour Civil War battlefields on his way up. He may show up in the next two days.”

“Well then, your job is to back him up. He happens to be patriotic. If he delays delivery, then so do you.”

“No sir. I deliver promptly and responsibly, on time as promised.”

“You are a freakin’ boy scout. No one likes a good citizen. You need to get rough around the edges and learn to be a man!”

I hung up. Then I turned and looked at the house where Potus lived. Suddenly, I remembered having seen pictures of this particular President and his family in front of this house. Wow. With all the weird people I meet and strange adventures I experience, there is something pretty cool about this job sometimes.

TOOL JOB

My cell phone rang as I neared Monroe, Louisiana. "Hello, who is this?" came the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Mrs. Sherman," I said.

"Bill? Bill, is that you? Oh, it is so nice to hear from you. I was just thinking of you."

"That's probably why you called me."

"Did I call you? I thought you had called me. Isn't that funny?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I so enjoyed seeing you at the Valentine's Ball two months ago. I wanted a chance to dance with you."

"Your friend seemed to want me as her exclusive dance partner."

"Well, I say that was mighty selfish of her," she huffed. "I wanted my chance with you. Why, we would have tripped the light fantastic, just like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers."

I laughed. "Well, I don't think I can dance like Fred Astaire."

"Maybe, but I can tell you that I dance exactly like Ginger. Mmm, that reminds me, I was going to bake you a batch of Ginger snaps. Would you like that?"

My cell phone beeped, and I had to excuse myself to Mrs. Sherman. I switched over to the other line, and my boss Riff growled at me. "Where the hell are you, you dumb loser?"

"Just about to arrive at the drop off point in Monroe, Louisiana."

"How did you like driving that big Ford Super Duty cargo van?"

"It's not built for comfort."

"Neither are you."

I shook my head, baffled. "What does that even mean?"

"Don't question me, just get the job done. Call me when you've delivered, I have another car for you to pick up in Shreveport."

A half hour later, I pulled into the man's driveway. He walked out with a frown on his face, and was not too happy when I tried to introduce myself. "Bill Thomas," I said.

"I really don't care who you are or anything about you. I just want my vehicle."

"Well sir, here it is."

"Yes, thank you, I can see that. Not much to look at, is it."

"It has lots of shelves and drawers built into the back of it."

"Good, that's one good thing. It will hold all of my tools. OK, you better start loading them up."

"Beg your pardon?"

"My tools. I have a whole lot of them, and they're not going to just load themselves. You had better get to work."

"Sir, I mean no offense, but it is not my job to load your new van with your tools."

"They are good tools!" he shouted defensively.

"I am sure that they are, but that's irrelevant."

"To who? Certainly not to me."

"I used the wrong word. The quality of the tools does not change the fact that you are responsible for loading them yourself."

"Oh really?"

"Yes sir."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Well I thought I had offered you a ride to the rental car agency to get a car out of here. That's about 15 miles away. Perhaps you'd like to walk that distance."

"Um, that is entirely up to you."

"Yes it is," he said, grinning. "It surely is. And it is also my decision as to whether to accept this van and sign your paperwork. Might cause you a bit of trouble if I do not choose to do so. Right?"

"Correct."

"I'd say you had better get busy loading my tools."

And so I did, very reluctantly. I was in the right, but he could obviously make my day much more difficult than it had to be. And he seemed ready and willing to do just that.

When I finished, he looked at the job I had done. "I'm not entirely satisfied, but this will have to do."

"Anything else you need, or can you take me to Hertz now?"

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mind painting my house." I stared at him slack-jawed. He burst into laughter. "Now I'm just joshing you. Look at your face! Don't take life so seriously."

As he drove me to Hertz, I was thinking that this was one of those days when I find a sincere lack of appreciation for the customers that I serve.

LOVABLE CRAZY KIDS

On Tuesday of this week, I picked up a car in Richmond that was headed for Knoxville. Since I was in Richmond, I called my old girlfriend Karen to see if I could come visit her at her new Café there. But once again, she didn’t answer her cell phone and there was no reply to my voicemail messages. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to her. So, I went ahead and got started on my trip.

Once in Knoxville, Tennessee I found myself delayed on the delivery. I had planned to deliver at noon as determined by the customer. But at the last minute the man called and said he couldn’t be home until 4pm, so I would have to wait until then to meet him. It kind of messed up my plans for getting out of town, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I decided to make the most of my time. I found a Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins hybrid, where I knew I could indulge in an iced coffee and free Wifi. I got onto the Internet and plotted out a new game plan for getting out of Knoxville since the timing had changed.

A poor Black family came in and sat down. At least they seemed poor, with ragged clothes and carrying their possessions in Hefty trash bags. The two children were somewhere between 3 and 5 years old I would guess, and they were shouting for ice cream. Their Father said, “I ain’t got no money to get you no ice cream, now hush.” The Mother walked up to the counter and asked for four cups of ice water, and the cashier had a patronizing attitude as she served them up.

Kids will be kids, and these particular children were full of beans. They ran around the place in circles, yelling and whooping it up. I have noticed this as a phenomenon all over America, that kids run around out of control screaming and the parents say nothing. This is not isolated to any particular section of society, I’ve seen Whites and Blacks and Hispanics and Asians, rich and poor. The thing of it is, when I was a kid I would not have even considered behaving like this in a public place. And if I had, my Mom would have whipped my butt harshly. I certainly could run like a maniac and scream my head off, but in my own backyard or perhaps a public park.

Yet I could not begrudge these kids from just having some fun. The world is such a crazy place, and who knows what tomorrow will bring? So I say let them be wild and have fun. Besides, they could not even afford an ice cream cone, so they deserved all the wild fun and frivolity that life could afford them.

As I continued working, the children began to run into the counter and freezer doors, kicking things and banging things. Their screams began to get even more frenzied. I finished my work on the Internet, and packed up my laptop and prepared to leave. As I headed for the door, I stopped. Something inexplicable overcame me, and I walked back to the cashier.

“You want something else?” she asked, seeming somewhat perturbed.

“Yes,” I said. I lowered my voice. “I’d like to buy four ice cream cones.”

“Four? For you? You want four for you?”

“No ma’am. I’d like to treat that family there to four cones.”

“How do you know they’re a family?”

“Well, I… I guess I just assumed.”

“I see. Why you want to do that?”

I shrugged. “How much do I owe you?” She rang me up and I paid for it. “Please just wait until I leave and then ask them what flavors they want.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

As I started to walk out, the kids had reached a whole new level of loud wildness. The Father had been ignoring them up to now, but stood up and yelled, “You children need to calm down, you are too wild! Where do you think you are, Sunday church service?”

I wondered as I walked out the door what kind of church service they attended. One where people ran around in circles screaming. Pentecostal, maybe? I got into the car and started the engine, but sat and watched as the cashier gave the news of free ice cream to the Father. He ran out the front door and looked around, but did not see me sitting in the car across the street. He looked up at the sky and said something then winked broadly. I presumed he was thanking God for the treat for his family. Personally, I was just thankful that I had enough money in my pocket to put a tiny ray of sunshine into this family’s day.

WAITING FOR THE BOSS

I had to meet a guy in Cleveland to pick up his car. He was moving to south Texas, and I was moving his company car down so that he was free to drive a U-haul truck and tow his wife's car. His name was Jody, and he was a friendly fellow.

We walked around his car in a parking lot where he had designated for us to meet. I was doing my condition report, marking down scratches, dents, etc. He was following me and watching closely. When I was done, I held out the clipboard with my paperwork to him. "OK Jody, if you will just sign here I'll be on my way."

"What? No, Bill, I can't do that."

"I don't understand, what's the problem?"

"My boss wants to see the car."

"Jody, signing this simply means that you handed me the keys, and you agree that the car is in the condition I have listed here."

"Oh sure, sure, I get that. Only my boss... well, you know how he is."

"Honestly, I don't. I've been doing this job for a while, and I've never had anyone's boss have to sign off on a car. I assure you it is not necessary."

"Right, but then we're talking about Eddie. And you know Eddie!"

"No, I don't believe we have met. But if he needs to sign off on it, that's fine with me. Where is Eddie?"

"At his motel, asleep."

"Uh, well Jody, I do have to get on down the road."

"Bill, I promise, this won't take long at all."

One hour later, we were still standing in the parking lot waiting. Jody had called his boss twice by this time, and he kept getting lame excuses from the man. I was beginning to feel frustrated, but kept it inside because I didn't wish to be rude to the customer. After all, this wasn't Jody's fault.

"Jody," I said, "didn't you tell me that you spent the last three days with your boss at a conference?"

"Yes, that's right, down in Columbus."

"Did he see the car there?"

"Oh you bet he did. I was driving him around in it."

"Well then... I'm confused. If he just saw it, why does he need to see it again before I can leave?"

"He wants to see it with you. Together. You know Eddie, he's all about togetherness." I still did not understand why Jody seemed so sure that I knew Eddie and his personality traits. I had never met the man. Jody's cell phone rang, and he talked to Eddie again for a few minutes. Then he hung up and smiled at me. "Good news. Eddie is 40 miles from here and wants us to meet him halfway."

"That is good news."

"So, hop in the car and I'll drive you to the rendezvous point."

"Let's go." And go we did, about one half hour on the Interstate highway towards Canton, Ohio. We stopped in a large hotel parking lot and stood around. For another hour. And then Eddie drove up, talking on the phone in his car. I walked over towards his car, and Jody gently grabbed my arm.

"What are you doing, Bill?"

"Making a beeline for Eddie, so he can sign off on this and I can get going."

"But can't you see, Eddie is on the phone. He hates to be interrupted when he is on his cell phone. I mean he hates it!"

So I waited until he got off the phone. Eddie climbed out of the car and Jody started talking to him. He basically ignored Jody, and walked right over to me. "Hey kid," said Eddie, "whadaya say, whadaya know?"

I smiled. "Not much."

Eddie doubled over laughing much too hard. "Not much! Did you hear that Jody? He said not much."

Jody nodded enthusiastically. "I heard. Eddie, this is Bill the driver."

Eddie got very close to me, face to face. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing at a spot on my shirt just below my chest. When I looked down, Eddie brought his finger up and flicked the end of my nose. "Ha ha, gotcha! I got you good!" His cell phone rang, and Eddie answered it and walked away from me.

Jody looked very happy. "I think he likes you. That's a very good sign."

"I'm glad that he likes me, but that doesn't factor into my job. I just made the mistake of engaging in small talk with him. Next time he's off the phone, I'm just going to hand him the clipboard and ask for him to sign. I'm already running two hours late."

Jody seemed defeated. "I know, and it is all my fault. How can you ever forgive me?"

I shook my head. "There is nothing to forgive. I just have to take care of business here."

Ten minutes later, Eddie hung up the phone. One second later, I was in his space handing him the clipboard. "Hey, hey!" yelled Eddie. "What's this, what's your rush? Explain yourself!"

"I just need for you to sign here and I'll be out of your hair."

"Out of my hair? In case you haven't noticed, I don't have much hair left." I glanced and could see that he was balding and his remaining hair was thinning out. "I love hair. And I love people who love hair, and have hair, and jump rope with hair. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!" He cackled with laughter. "No, but seriously, we have to go over this car inch by inch before I let you take it."

I held the paperwork out for him to examine. "As you can see, I've already done a condition report."

Eddie turned to Jody, referring to me. "Jody, where did you find this guy? I love this guy! I want him around me for the rest of my natural life! I want to make babies with this man. Now give me that paperwork, you big lovable so and so." Eddie snatched the paperwork from me and began walking slowly around the car.

I pointed towards an obvious deep scratch. "I mark down things like this one right here..."

"Shhh!" interrupted Eddie. "I'm in the zone."

"He likes zones," offered Jody.

"Shut up, Jody, I'll tell you when its time to speak." Eddie walked over and looked at the scratch I had pointed out, then reviewed the paperwork. "What is this?"

"A scratch, I marked it right there."

Eddie made a silly face and shook his head back and forth. "No, no, that's not a scratch. Watch this." Eddie took a handkerchief out of his pocket and spit generously on it. Then he took the handkerchief and rubbed very hard on the scratch, as if he could make it disappear. "A little bit of spit and elbow grease will take out any scratch or dent. The point is, we're not going to be responsible for any scratches or dents."

I grinned. "Eddie, you will not be held accountable. The point of me writing this stuff down is to protect both you and me. It shows what condition the car was when I picked it up, and what it was when I delivered it."

Eddie furrowed his brow. "But how can I live with this? You wrote that there is a deep dent on the right side front door."

I responded by walking around the car and pointing to the spot. "Right here."

"No, no," said Eddie, shaking his head as he walked up. He spit twice into the handkerchief and began to rub very vigorously. "This will come out in no time, lickety-split. Say Bill, what do you say to a one-legged hitchhiker?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"Hop in. Get it? One leg? Hop? Get it?"

"Yes, I do get it."

"I got a million more, I'm warning you."

"Thanks for the warning."

Eddie began to pretend to pummel me in the stomach with his fists. He didn't ever hit me, just kept pretending to let a barrage of punches fly at me. "I love this guy, Jody."

"I know you do," replied Jody.

"We have to hire him to come work for us."

I was intrigued. "That sounds interesting, tell me more."

Eddie seemed taken aback. "Now listen, you crazy kid. Don't start getting too big for your britches, that's a quality I can do without. Wait to be asked, don't be so pushy, or else you will push others away. See my point?"

Honestly, I did not see his point at all. "Anything else you need to see before we sign the paperwork?"

"Hold your horses, hot rod! You are one anxious Andrew! What we used to call in the Army an eager beaver. Ever heard that one?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I've heard of eager beaver."

"What did you hear about him?" Eddie bent over laughing, and slapped me on the back. Then he winked at me as if we had shared a valuable secret. "Well, I guess I can sign just as soon as you amend the paperwork."

"Amend it?"

"Yes, please, right now."

"How?"

"Just get rid of what you wrote down."

"Can I borrow your handkerchief?"

"Oh, so you're a smart ass? I like that, I like that a lot. You could learn a lot from Bill here, Jody."

Jody stood fully erect. "I would welcome the opportunity anytime."

"Shut up, Jody," said Eddie. "Bill, have you ever been in a towel popping contest?"

"What?"

"You know, in a school gym, a good old fashioned popping towels on your buddies' bare asses towel popping contest."

"No."

"Never? I find that hard to believe. In fact, I think you are just being shrewd and playing your cards close to the chest. Am I right?"

"Nope."

"I would love to get into a towel popping contest with you just to see who is the better man."

There was a pause. "Ready to sign?" I asked.

Eddie giggled. "Bill, you are a freakin' broken record with that stuff. OK, OK, I will sign, is that gonna make you happy?" Eddie signed, and I reached for the paperwork. He yanked it away from me and held it up high. "What do you say? What's the magic word?"

"Please and thank you," I told him.

"Ding, ding, ding, you get bonus points for Thank You, we were only looking for Please." Eddie handed me both copies, and I gave one of them back to him. "Safe travels, Bill. And a friendly professional tip for you, try hard to be more punctual, its bad business to be late."

"I'll remember that."

"See that you do."

"Bye Bill, see you in Texas."

"Shut up, Jody," said Eddie with an air of exasperation.

I learned an important lesson from this experience, one that I will never forget. Spit and a handkerchief can make any problem just go away.

KING PIMP

I hate riding Greyhound more than anything. It used to be a necessity to get around on my job, in between the cars I drove. I’d deliver a car, ride a Greyhound to the next car I had to pick up. But after numerous bad experiences I got creative about how to get around otherwise. Trains, planes, rental cars, whatever. It was torture to me to ride Greyhound, with their uncomfortable seats and sardine can-like accommodations. I felt like I was trapped in a narrow tube full of bad versions of Bill’s people, all races, shapes and sizes. People who had forgotten the meaning of the word “soap.”

Three days ago, I was in Fort Wayne, Indiana and could not find any other way out. No other mode of transportation was available or even remotely affordable. I thought I would go to Columbus, where my rocker stoner friend Smokey lives. Indiana to Ohio would not be too long of a ride, and I could tolerate it. Barely.

I knew things would not go smoothly. First off, the bus I was to catch was two hours late arriving in Fort Wayne. Then a half hour later, when the driver was about to board us, he started chatting up three gals who were standing behind me in line. I had been there for three hours myself, and was first in line at the door. The driver announced to us that his bus was very full, and that not all of us were going to get on. Which made me glad that I was first in line. As the driver opened the door in front of me, he put his arm across my path and said, “Hey brother, ladies first.” And the three girls he had been talking to walked by me defiantly, with their lips curled with superiority. I am a gentleman and do believe in ladies going first, but this was what I consider line-cutting, and I hate that.

Once on the bus, I could quickly see that there was only one seat left. The hyper guy behind me said, “Excuse me” and tried to push his way past me. He seemed intent on getting that last seat, but there was no way that was going to happen. I very effectively blocked his path in the very narrow aisle, until I thought he was going to climb over the people in their seats to get around me. When I plopped down in the one empty seat, this guy let out a loud, long sigh.

I looked at the man in the window seat next to me. He was a long, lean Black man, wearing a gold colored velvet athletic suit and matching driving cap. He looked me up and down, slowly and methodically, like he was taking a measure of me. “You cool?”

“Beg pardon?”

“No need to beg. I just axed if you cool.”

“Very cool.”

“We’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat and relaxed in his seat. The driver boarded thirty minutes later and started making announcements as we pulled out of the station three hours late. When some rowdy folks in the back of the bus interrupted his announcements, the driver said he wasn’t going to compete with loud rascals.

I looked at my watch. “Three hours late. Typical Greyhound.”

My seat neighbor looked over at me. “You in a hurry?”

“No, not really. I just hate riding Greyhound.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you and the rest of the world.” The rowdy crowd in back got louder, and the driver came on the mike and told them to settle down or they’d be walking. “Them boys ain’t had no home training. My momma would’ve whipped their butts.” He grinned at me. “Hey man, I’m Virgil.”

I smiled and held my hand out to shake. “Bill Thomas, pleased to meet you, Virgil.”

He took my hand in a flimsy grasp and smiled. “Yeah well, I don’t know about all that, but hey, it’s cool. Know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yes.”

“You going to Dayton?”

“No, Columbus.”

“Man, forget about Columbus, you need to stop off in Dayton, that’s where I’m going.”

“I have a friend in Columbus.”

He adjusted his driving cap. “Well now you got a friend in Dayton, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yes, and thank you.”

“Man, I got Dayton all wrapped up tight. I can get you anything you want there.”

“Good to know.”

“Weed, blow, women. And I mean fine ass women, prime meat. You will be lovin’ on them, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I think I do.”

“No thinkin’ to it, it’s all real. It’s a natural fact. And I know that’s right.”

“Good.”

He shook his head. “No man, seriously, you need to detour off the bus in Dayton and stay with your old friend Virgil for the day, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I follow you.”

“You should follow me, Bill, cuz you will have some wild adventures. Mr. Virgil’s Wild Ride, it is a joy to behold. It’ll be a magical and wondrous experience for you, for sure. I got some women in my stable that will rock your world across the universe. You dig?”

“I dig. But… did you say your stable?”

“Yeah, well, not like a horse stable. It’s be my stable of hoes, and they is good, know what I’m sayin’? In Dayton I got a rep as King of the Pimps. But hey, I like to keep that on the down low, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I know, I know.”

He leaned back in his chair and pulled his driving cap down over his eyes. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a minute, why don’t you tell me about why you hate Greyhound?”

I started to tell him the story of the man who fell into a deep sleep on my chest then started having erotic dreams. As I was doing this, I saw his left hand slip under the waistband of his pants. Then his hand began roaming around. He appeared to be manipulating himself, and I was praying that he wouldn’t erect a tent in his pants. I just looked away and kept on talking, trying to pretend that I was blissfully ignorant of what Virgil was doing. “And that is one of the many reasons I hate Greyhound so much,” I concluded.

“Yeah, man, that is a good story but it’s messed up. Know what I’m sayin’?”

I did know what he was saying, though I was unsure why he kept on asking me that question.

When we got to Dayton, he stuck his left hand out to shake with me again. I avoided it and just patted him on the shoulder. He pleaded for me to get off and promised to show me a good time. I declined, but not before he made me promise that I’d call him next time I delivered a car to Dayton so I could see it through the eyes of the King of the Pimps. I feel sure that is a promise I will not be able to keep.