Life in a taxi

I am running late for work. I get a cab that will probably cost me more than I will make today. I can’t be late, so I put the driver under pressure. I know it is not fair but I do it anyways. He does everything that is possible for me to be on time.

I am living in a dirty full of roaches shared apartment, I am not meeting my career aspirations, people around me seem to have no soul and all the ones I love are very far away. I have nothing but my job at this side of the world and I can’t lose it.  I am so desperate that I tell all this to him.

He feels very sorry for me.

He’s from India and shares an apartment with somebody too, although he’s more than 50. He used to have a wife but he’s divorced these days.

We’re in silent waiting for the traffic light to turn green when he suddenly says:

“I have no life. I’ve been inside this car for 25 years. When I get home I heat something in the microwave, lie on the couch, watch TV and sleep. Then I come back to the taxi”.

He continues feeling sorry for me although I’m not talking anymore. I can’t imagine a worse life than a life in a taxi.

We arrive at my workplace and he takes only half the money I should pay. “Don’t worry, okay? Things are going to be fine”, he says.

I am on time for work. His words resonate in my mind while I am walking. When I turn back, he’s still there smiling at me and waving his hand.

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1 comment
  1. Compassion, when shown by strangers is nothing short of magic :)

    Like

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Olga Rodríguez

Blog. Análisis y opinión

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