So last night I picked a guy up around 6:30 or so at Rosslyn and took him in to a nice restaurant near Metro Center (why don't people metro that? I don't get it). We said only a few words to each other at the beginning of the trip, then we were silent and listened to NPR on the radio the rest of the time. When I dropped him off, he paid and asked for a receipt. While I was filling that out and he was leaving the car, he said, awkwardly, "You know, in all my years in this town, you're the first Engli...uh, first, uh, Native American driver I've had."
And because it's been a while, egg beater.
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That sounds like cause for celebration! Did you smokum big peace pipe?
ReplyDeleteSeriously, maybe you should place a big sign on the back of your seat that says "I'm Tom Perez-Lopez, and I'll be your driver today. Please keep hands and feet inside the car, and douchey comments inside your head." That might make everyone more comfortable.
Was that last line a "rub one out" joke? Gross!
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