friday night’s cab driver was from boston
archive, longer, writing
“So, where are you guys from?”
“He’s from here,” I said, “and I’m from Jersey.”
“Jersey, huh? 201, 551, 609, 732, 848, 856, 862, 908, 973.”
“What about the new ones? There’s 856…” My mom’s area code since she moved is 856.
“856, replaced 609.”
Close enough.
“And where are you from?” he asked Dan.
“Newton.”
“The Garden City.”
I was getting into this. “And I’m from the Garden State.”
“That’s right,” said the cab driver. “Exit four, NJTP.”
“Exit three,” I corrected, but I was wrong — it is exit four.
“You from Cherry Hill?”
“Close to that.”
“I requested four Beatles songs on this station,” he said, “but none of them have come up yet.”
“Which songs?” Dan asked.
“Rain, I’m Only Sleeping, I Am the Walrus and Run For Your Life. Do you know any of those songs?”
“Yeah,” Dan said.
“Rain, 3:02, I’m Only Sleeping 3:01, I Am the Walrus 4:37, Run For Your Life 2:18. What was the first Beatles song over three minutes?”
“Tomorrow Never Knows,” Dan guessed.
“Ticket To Ride,” he said. “3:12.”
The fare came to 6.50, but I gave him 10.00.