Like an idiot, I threw out the self-check paper the computer gives you after arrival. I crumpled it mindlessly while waiting to pick up my suitcase and threw it in the garbage just before turning the corner and bumping into the dude requesting it (heavy sigh). Directed to a room, I waited until someone could verify me. It was only about ten minutes.
Oh joy! It feels so good to be home. I thought to myself as Uber turned into the driveway at 1:00 am. “Yes!” I yelled quietly as I rode uninterrupted to the eighteenth floor. Hmm … all the Lazies must be sleeping or out partying. I was gone for so long that the floor in the hallway looked new – It’s not.
I thought back to my Uber driver for a moment. “How was your flight!”
He tells me about the four other passengers he picked up who also had bad travel experiences. Like I care. Sometimes I will tell them I don’t wish to speak and they’d shut up, but for whatever reason, this time I didn’t and the next thing out of his laughing mouth was …
“Can I flirt with you?”
WTF! “Sure.” I laugh back. Slightly curious to see how his flirting will manifest.
“You can remove your mask if you want to. The pandemic is over.”
What the fuck do you know! “No! I’m ok, thank you.” I smile with tired, but still sexy, eyes.
He proceeds to ask rapid-fire questions about what I do, who I live with, etc. He tells me about how expensive it is in Toronto; that’s why he lives in Ajax. And he’s in IT and something and something and something else.
Q&A does not a conversation make. I wish more men knew that! I hope I don’t do that! Do I? Ugh!
“Where do you work?”
“I prefer not to say.” Do you realize I haven’t asked you one single thing about yourself! A clear indicator, sir, that I am not interested.
“Oh! Ok. That’s alright. How long have you lived in Toronto?”
I swear to an angry, bloodthirsty God! If you weren’t driving, I’d rip your tongue out of your mouth, and while you screamed in surprise and agony, I’d rip your neck off your torso. But I’d like to get home in one piece! Lucky you!
I answer his question, and he continues to talk about whatever. We pull up to the front of the building; I remove my couldn’t-carry-on and knapsack from the trunk. As I get myself organized, I’m aware that he hasn’t driven off yet.
Turning to go up the ramp, he yells out the window. “I was joking about the flirting!”
Liar. “Yea! I know.” Liar. If two people lie about the same thing, do they cancel each other out and become … true? Hmm!
I grab the keys from the front pocket of my black belroy city pouch plus, open the apartment door and wish I had followed my gut and ripped the liar’s parts off because I opened the door to a smelly, clothes, shoes, pet food and various bags of garbage and other stuff all over the living room floor.
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