CXXVIII. Girl Dad. November 12, 2024

>driving Lyft

>it is Friday night in Collegetown

>the FSU kids like to dress up in costumes and barhop

>tonight is beach themed, I guess, because the dudes are wearing board shorts and open shirts

>and the girls are in cutoffs and bikini tops

>hundreds of rich white kids, all dressed the same, getting drunk and stupid

>there are few things more American

>my next ride is four bikini-clad girls

>one of whom is forced to sit in the passenger’s seat up front

>the three in the back are having a hell of a time

>laughing, taking pictures, playing grabass or whatever

>the one in the front feels obligated to talk to me

>this is typical in my Lyft rides

>whoever sits up front has to talk to the Lyft guy

>personally, I am 100% fine if nobody says a damn word to me

>but my passenger can’t handle it

>so she goes down the list of questions everybody asks the Lyft driver

>and I give the same answers I always do

>”You been busy tonight?” she says

>”Yep, pretty busy. Everybody’s out having fun”

>”Are you from Tallahassee?”

>”Nope, I’m from South Alabama, but I’ve lived here ten years and I will probably stay”

>”How long have you been driving for Lyft?”

>”Going on five years now.  It’s a good side hustle, and Lord knows I need the money. Children are expensive.”

>”Oh?” she says, “How many children do you have?”

>”Five,” I say, “mostly girls.”

>”Yeah, I believe it,” she says, “You seem like a girl dad.”

>I have no idea what made her say that

>and the ride ended before I could ask

>but I guess it’s a compliment

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