# 9 - Unexpected Ride

Prompt: A taxi ride that didn't turn out how you expected it to. 

The sidewalk was full. The six lanes of criss-crossing traffic only added to the cramped feeling of the city. Her phone rang, sending its chime up from the bowels of her leather bag. She waved for a cab as she dug in blindly. After two solid seconds of no success she decided to look down into the depths of the leather purse. 

A car pulled to a stop in front of her. Eyes and fingers still sifting through the papers, keys and whatnot, she didn't even notice the cab door pop open. As the last ring echoed in the vehicle she pulled out her phone and answered, closing the door behind her.

"Hello, Georgia Mackey," she said into the phone. "Fourth and Lexington, please," she added to the driver. She placed her purse beside her on the leather seat and listened to Craig, her colleague, go into another panic.

"Craig- I know-," she started. Trying not to chuckle she waited until the man took a breath, "Craig, I'll be there in twenty minutes. We can go over it again, backwards if you'd like. Trust me on this, okay?"

He described himself as a perfectionist, but Georgia would have called it obsessive compulsive. Still, the man never missed a detail in any plan or deal they had proposed or lead in the past five years. He had saved them both plenty of embarrassment on multiple occasions. Skills that like were hard to come by so Georgia didn't complain. She could recite the business plan in her sleep so what was another iteration with her OCD business partner. 

Georgia pressed end on the call, satisfied with herself. She glanced out the window. Hundreds of other cabs and vehicles flowed up and down the avenue like some bizarre river of yellow blurs. She sighed and looked at the name plate on the back of the passenger seat. 

John Smyth it read. His license number displayed beside the name and below was the logo of a cab company Georgia had never heard of. Phone still in hand, she decided to look up the company. In this day and age, everyone had a website especially in the city. Double checking the spelling she hit 'search'.

"I've never heard of your company, Mr. Smyth," Georgia leaned forward as she spoke. The driver didn't even flinch when he was addressed. Most cabbies would turn their head to the right, even a little bit, to hear their fares better. This man didn't move. Soft jazz music played through the cab, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out a person talking. 

"Is Juniper Taxi new to the city?" She tried again. He didn't answer. "Sir, do you speak English?" Still nothing. Slightly flustered Georgia sat back in her seat. "As long as you get me to where I need to be, there's no problem," she mumbled mostly to herself. Phone still in hand she pulled up Yelp.com, prepared to write up a review of this cab service and their stoic drivers. She tapped the third star and type, tapping the small on screen keyboard. 

To be thorough, Georgia looked around the interior of the cab. It was clean. The seats were comfortable. There wasn't trash anywhere to be seen, even beside the driver. His newspaper was folded up on the seat neatly. She reviewed what she saw and noted that she hadn't even felt the car stop at lights. This guy was a good driver, if not quiet. And some people preferred that. 

On the back of the seat, the divider between the cabbie and the passengers there were two signs besides the driver's credentials. 

One read: Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time. ~ W. Shakespeare.

The other read: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Georgia laughed to herself and began to wonder. What did she want to be? She had always wanted to be in charge. When her friends wanted to play school she wanted to be the principal. When they wanted to play tag she always told the rules and made sure everyone followed. Once her friend Beth had gotten mad, exclaiming that the only rules to tag were to tag and run. But she saw it as much more than that. Who was 'it'? Who could they tag? Did they have to tag your arm or your back? Was there a 'base', a place where you couldn't be tagged? If so, what was base? Everything is much more complicated than tag and run. 

She suddenly remembered the time a neighbor boy had told her that girls couldn't be in charge. It was the boy's job, he had said. When she asked why only boys could be in charge he had said that was just the way it was. Georgia could not accept that. She had gone to the library to find out if what the boy had said was true. She asked her parents and her grandparents, but grown ups gave weird answers. In the end she found that women could be in charge, but that being the boss was hard work no matter. 

"It says what DO you want to be WHEN you grow up." The voice pulled her from the reverie. The man was looking into the backseat; she saw his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"As in, I haven't grown up yet?" Georgia replied. The man didn't blink, only watched her. "I would say I'm grown. I'm not getting any taller, that's for sure." 

His eyes were back on the road. He hadn't laugh at her self-deprecation. She sat back a little more in the seat. Uncomfortably, she looked back at her phone. The Yelp review she was in the middle of waited to be finished. The cursor blinked. She was about to type again, but stopped. 

What did he mean WHEN she grew up? She was there, at least physically. Georgia knew she was mature. She did all the adult things one is expected. She paid her bills and lead business meetings. She was living the dream, her dream. She was in charge. 

"I think I'm doing what I want to do," Georgia told the driver. "How about you, Mr. Smyth?"

"I am," he replied without moving.  

"You wanted to be a cab driver?" Georgia asked. She knew it sounded rude, condescending. "I've never meet anyone who aspired to drive a taxi. I'm glad for you." She amended, feeling better about herself. 

"You think you're doing what you want," the driver commented. 

"Yeah," Georgia cocked her head confused. "I wanted to be my own boss. I am. So yes, I am doing what I want." 

"You're sure?" He sounded like her father. Georgia furrowed her brow. 

"Yes," she replied defiantly. "I make the rules, I don't answer to anyone, I am my own boss."

"You make the rules?" he inflected. 

"Does your company encourage this kind of talk with passengers? No one has time for an existential debate in a taxi cab. You could really mess up someone's head, Mr. Smyth," Georgia accused. 

"John," the driver answered.

"That's awfully evasive of you, John," she scoffed. 

"Am I the evasive one?" He asked, flatly. 

"What does that mean?! You know, I think you should let me out here." Georgia grabbed her purse and peered out the window to get her bearings. "What's my fare?" She looked into the front seat and saw that there was meter running, but she couldn't understand what it said. The numbers were in an odd order and there were no labels. 

"We're nearly there," John stated. "You were saying your life is fulfilled, Georgia." She hardly noticed that he had called her by her name. Instead she sat back in the seat. 

"Yes, I do. My company lays out the guidelines for dozens of business deals. We also lead our own ventures. I get to decide what happens." Georgia said matter-of-factly. She was indeed proud of her work. 

"Good," the driver said. 

"Good?" she laughed a little too loudly. "It's exactly what I dreamed, what I planned."

"Good." 

Georgia clutched her bag and stared out the window. She realized they were in fact just a block from her office. Curiosity overcame her.

"Do you do this to all your fares, John?" she inquired with a grin.

"Do what?" the man asked innocently.

"Make them question themselves. Make them justify their jobs, their actions. The whole existential 'would kid me be proud of grown up me' thing?" Georgia leaned forward, waiting for his response. 

"You do the digging; I just provide the tools," he nearly whispered. 

Georgia looked down at the two signs again. 

"Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time," she read aloud. "We'll have to open that can of worms another time." 

"Another time," John nodded. 

She felt the car stop in front of the building. Craig would be pacing the conference room, flipping charts and pages in a panic on the eighth floor. Georgia climbed from the cab and closed the door. She glanced up at the building, basking in the glow of her achievements for just a moment. 

Georgia reached into her purse and retrieved her wallet. Turning back toward the cab she knelt to lean near the passenger window. The cab was gone. There was no vehicle beside the curb. People around bustled by, unaware of the strangeness. 

As Georgia replaced her wallet, her phone began to ring again. She grabbed it quickly.

"I'll be right up, Craig." He didn't reply, just ended the call. Georgia laughed. The Yelp review was waiting to be finished. The cursor still blinking on the screen. She tapped cancel and headed into the building, shaking her head a little. 

"Time to be the boss," Georgia smiled to herself.