a few glimpses into my world at night…
I’m a big fan of Tropic Thunder. Last night I got “Four-Leaf” Tayback in my cab.
I picked him up near Slabtown and took him out to Mall 205. All the way out he talked about PTSD, sweat lodges, and how nobody knows a fucking thing but the Indians.
“They’re tied to the land. They’re guardians.”
I once saw some drunk Tlingits in Juneau corner a lost bear at a bus stop. I think it sent them all to hospital.
“Some tribes are more like Vikings,” I said.
“Just drop me off by the Applebee’s.”
When I pulled over he handed me cash clenched in a metal hook. I hadn’t even noticed. Psychically, I was already there.
Next I had a woman at Motel 6 on Powell going to the Safeway and back. In three blocks I had her whole story. My favorite part was when her stepchildren locked her out of her house after her husband died.
“It was actually about 6 months after, but far short of normal grieving time.”
They had also, it turned out, buried him in the wrong plot. Instead of an empty grave at his side reserved for her.
“Now they got some Mexican there and I’m down at his feet!’’
We pulled into the Safeway parking lot on 39th and Powell and a large red fox with thick, matted hair walked across parking lot.
“Is that a fox?”
She stopped talking and looked. The fox turned toward us then bolted across Powell. I called animal rescue. They told me to call Fish and Wild Life. I wanted to call the Shinto Psychic Hotline. The woman from Motel 6 told me to call dispatch and tell them it cost more than five dollars to go from Motel 6 to Safeway and back. I told her if she hadn’t spent 20 minutes in the store it wouldn’t have.
I thought about the fox all night. It was like the bear in the bus stop. My last fare was a young stripper who looked like Claire Danes. She told me she was saving up to fix a van so she and her boyfriend could leave and travel.
“I want to see the world before it’s gone,” she said.
You are, I thought.