Let's call this fiction. Any resemblance to any people I may have encountered in my life is merely coincidental.
It’s 3pm and I’m leaving work after a long day that started at 5am. I call my daily Uber and it arrives in front of the building. It smells like air fresheners and the driver greets me as I settle back and close my eyes. I chew softly on my peppermint gum and think wistfully about all of the Christmas shopping that still needs to be done.
Traffic is heavy, the way it always is in the middle of the day, and I know my three mile commute home will take about a half hour, so I gaze dreamily out the window while making idle chit chat with the stranger in charge of my safe return home.
“It’s getting cold,” he says conversationally.
“Yeah,” I reply, hugging my sweater closer to my chest, “But it’s still warm for December compared to where I come from.”
“Ah,” he says, “You from the east coast?”
“Yup, New Jersey. I just moved here a few months ago.”
“That’s cool. How do you like it here?”
“I love it,” I say, with the familiar surprise that I feel when I realize that I mean what I’m saying from a place deep in my heart.
Most of my Uber conversations begin this way, but it pulls in every possible direction from there. There have been drivers who talked to me about the possibility of alien technology on our planet, a woman who asked for my advice on getting a Class A drivers license, and foreign tourists looking for cool places to go while they vacationed. Life moves all around you in an Uber, but there are brief pieces of civilization otherwise unseen unless you are enclosed within.
“Looks like another rider will be joining the pool,” the driver states, making a sharp right off course.
This is fine with me, I would rather pay the lower rate and get the chance to meet someone new, or make a trip into another part of town that deviates from the mundane routine of daily life.
We make a few more turns and wind up on a street corner. I am still looking out the window when the door opens and someone slides into the seat by my side. I glance over to make a polite introduction, and it gets caught in my throat when I come face to face with Thor.
Okay, so he isn’t Thor, and he definitely isn’t a Hemsworth brother, but he’s large and muscular. He’s also dressed in a full Thor costume, complete with Mjolnir the hammer.
“Uh, hey,” I say, trying to be extremely casual about his appearance.
“What’s up,” he says, giving me an grin and a nod.
I face forward as we pull back toward the direction of home, and I’m struck by the fact that I’m not even really surprised at my present company. The driver turns up the radio and I settle back into my seat, sitting next to Thor on a regular Tuesday in December.
Welcome to Hollywood.
