The Littlest, Oldest Lady
-Alex Farr

 

    It was a Tuesday, and as so often before, I was standing around with the Indians at the downtown BART cabstand. I'd made it from 5th to 2nd in the lineup in a mere 45 minutes, and I was a little dazed by all the boredom, so I was a little slow to notice the little old lady on crutches that'd hobbled over to one of the Indian drivers. She was trying to explain something to him, and he was saying something about vouchers... unfortunately for her though, this particular driver has no talent with languages, or more specifically, with English. He sounds something like a drowning man with a mouth full of marbles whenever he tries English words with more than one syllable, not that he knows too many of them. So I was curious to watch the show.

    Just as I got up to them though, someone showed up who actually wanted a taxi, and the Indian was the first man in line. He dropped the old lady's conversation like a burning bag of dogshit, and drove away with the newly appeared fare. Suddenly I was the first cab, which meant I had to try to figure out what the old lady was trying to explain.

    Her explanation went something like this. "Can one of you call me a taxi?"

    I looked around me. There were at least six of us milling around. "Why don't you just take one of us?" I asked.

    "Well, it has to be a Friendly cab. I ride for free with Friendly cab. Or, I can pay, if I have to. I have money." at which point she showed me an envelope, through the window of which I caught a glimpse of greenbacks.

    "Ok, if you want to pay I can take you. But, free? How is it you ride for free with Friendly?" I asked. (Friendly is the name of a cab company in Oakland. It's just a name. It is, however, the name of the cab company that also owns Yellow, as well as Metro Yellow, which is me. Which meant, if she could ride for free with Friendly, she could ride for free with me. Assuming someone was gonna pay me.)

    I was curious.

    "Well, it was a present to me, on my 100th birthday, from the City. I ride with Friendly for free."

    I just nodded. My first reaction was that she must be senile. Of course, there was the possibility it'd been some sort of publicity stunt by the City, arrange an account with Friendly to cover all her cab fare as a prize for having survived 100 years in a City with more than 100 homicides a year. Very curious indeed.

    Just to know, I called the Friendly office. I gave her name, Judea Dukes, and by God the dispatcher informed me "Yes, that's true. She does ride for free. I'll write you up an 'ok charge' slip right now..."

    It was just plain whacky... but I gave dispatch the addresses, BART to the old folks' home, and I was all set.

    It was so whacky that I even patiently helped her into the car, loaded her crutches for her, and drove nicely and safely.

    When we arrived, she asked "So, how much do I owe you?"

    "You don't owe me anything. It's all covered... although, if you wanna give me a couple of bucks for being such a nice guy, that's always welcome." I explained, as I got out and opened her door for her, and then went around the other side to fetch her crutches for her.

    I smiled, and waited patiently as she nudged her 100+ year old feet out the door an inch or two at a time.

    "Ohh, I'm sorry, but I didn't bring any money with me. You have been very nice, but I just don't have any money..." she explained, while she struggled to get her feet out the door, and then took a little rest break before the monumntal task of pulling herself to her feet.

    I was shocked, but only for about half a second. I knew she had money, she'd flashed me a glimpse not 10 minutes before... but she was the Littlest, Oldest Lady in Town. What did I expect?

    Ordinary little, old ladies will fish around for a shiny quarter to tip a driver. The Littlest, Oldest Lady is obviously above such terrestrial concerns, however. She not only tips smaller, she doesn't even pay her own fare.

    She was the Platonic Ideal, of Little Old Ladydom.

    I felt strangely honored to have had her in my cab. It didn't stop me from padding the 'ok charge' total though.

 the New Waybills

 there's No Place Like Home...

You gotta be shitting me Alex