CXXXII. Two Cigarettes. January 25, 2025
>driving Lyft
>I pick up this very old Black lady from the hospital
>sometimes the nurses are glad to be shed of patients
>they stuff them in the car with relish
>but this nurse hugs the lady and tells her to be safe
>she has three of those clear hospital bags labeled “personal belongings”
>they are so full of stuff that I must put them in the trunk
>the lady is wearing a hospital gown and pajama pants
>she has no teeth, and cannot speak above a whisper
>the nurse and I put her in the car like she’s made of angel hair pasta
>she talks to me during the trip
>about one thing or another
>and every time she sounds like she is mumbling through peanut butter
>I can barely understand her
>sometimes I have to say “Ma’am?” two or three times before I grok
>at first she wants to use my phone
>she calls a number that tells her that this Verizon Wireless customer cannot receive calls
>she calls another number and gets a voicemail
>she says “Hey Ronnie this yo sister-in-law Theresa come on now and call me back Ima need y’all come pick me up”
>I am only able to translate because she leaves the message three times
>next she asks for a cigarette
>I truthfully say I don’t have one
>I assume I am taking her home after a hospital stay
>but no, we go to Piggly Wiggly
>she insists this is no mistake
>I park in a handicap spot
>with this lady in the car, there are none to say me nay
>she tells me to go get her a scooter
>I go inside and find one
>I’ve never driven a grocery-store mobility scooter before
>of course I have to pilot it the width of the store
>running into things
>with everyone staring at me like I’m an asshole
>when I get back outside
>the lady is halfway out of the backseat
>asking passers-by for cigarettes
>one woman who looks like Jane Lynch stops and says
>”Oh honey, where’d you come from, the Kearney Center?”
>”I got two cigarettes left and you can have one, sweetie, bless”
>I get her situated in the scooter
>I pile all her belongings in the little basket
>she seems completely fine with it
>as I leave, Jane Lynch is lighting two cigarettes