Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver: A Tale of Four Bobs
Episode 10 in a series of true rideshare stories
There are two of them, a younger woman (40s) and an older woman (90s). The younger woman might be a family member or a hired caregiver. She helps the older woman into the car because the older woman can't see very well.
The older woman asks me if I know the location of the main office for her bank. I tell her I don't know offhand, but I'd be happy to Google it for her.
"Shame on you. This is your job," she says, in a perfect fifty-fifty tone between sarcasm and sincerity, so that it’s impossible to tell whether she means it or not. The younger woman says to just take them home. She laughs in that peacekeeper way, like she wants me to know the older woman is kidding, but is she?
The ride has two stops—dropping off the younger woman first and the older woman second. On the way to the first stop, the older woman asks me, “How’s your girlfriend doing?”
Before I can answer, the younger woman asks her, "How do you know he has one?”
The older woman says, "Well, just look at him…" sounding like she is calling me handsome, until, after a perfectly-timed pause, she finishes, "…he clearly doesn't have a wife."
I’m impressed. I hang out with comedians. I’ve done roast battles. I’ve been hit with some pretty good verbal jabs before, but the raw, natural talent in this woman is worthy of admiration, especially since that dry voice of hers makes it so tough to tell whether or not she’s being playful.
The younger woman laughs the whole time, assuring me this woman is 92 years old and she's seen and done everything. The older woman bristles and says, "I haven't done everything..." Whatever that cryptic statement can be taken to mean.
This is the dynamic that keeps up, with body language and vocal subtext from the younger woman that always says, "Don't hold it against her. She's old." But I don't want apologies. I like the older woman. She doesn't give a shit. She just says whatever she feels like saying. She doesn't seem angry or mean-spirited; in fact, she seems like she's having a fine time. She just has no use for social etiquette. She is the person most of us would like to think we are. The younger woman is the person most of us actually are.
I drop the younger woman off and drive along with the older woman, on the way to her retirement community. She starts telling me about it.
"It's a great place to live. I don't have to cook, there's stuff to do, people to talk to. I must have done something right in the past. Everyone else there is rich and I'm not, but I managed to bullshit my way in. I get to spend all day relaxing, and at 92, I've even got a couple of boyfriends."
"A couple?" I ask.
"Oh yeah. I'm only talking like this because I'll never see you again."
I tell her she makes 92 sound awfully appealing.
"It is," she says. "See, here's the thing. Life comes with rough patches, but you can get past them. I had two husbands, both named Bob. I raised four kids into functional adults, and now I have ten grandkids and twelve great-grands. I did my time. But if you do your time and you do a good job, eventually you have other people around who can pick up the slack, and you get to put your feet up. Now I've got no responsibilities and two boyfriends who are also named Bob. Can you believe that?"
"Four Bobs?"
"Yep! What are the odds?"
I tell her I can't begin to estimate, but we should all be so lucky as to have four Bobs in our lives. Then I get her to the front doors of her building and drop her off. She thanks me for the ride and tells me it was a pleasure talking. I tell her, believe me, the pleasure was mine.
"Enjoy your Bobs," I say as she gets out.
"Oh, I do. And I tell them, I managed to kill both of my husbands, so you better watch out if you don't want to be Bob Number Three."
I assume she is using "kill" as a playful euphemism for "outlive", but again she says it with that perfect mixture of sincerity and sarcasm where you just never know. She shuts the car door, and this time, there is no younger woman to laugh uncomfortably and insist it's just a joke.
Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver is a series that tells true stories of my 10,000+ trips as a rideshare driver. I will post them every Monday.