Albuquerque Cabbie and Utah Bus Driver
Sometime during the two years that I was a college student and single, I found myself in Albuquerque, traveling to Carlsbad. I don’t remember how I got to Albuquerque or where the cabbie picked me up, but I do remember that I was going to the Greyhound station. It was morning, early for me as a college student but the beginning of a normal work day for people like the this cab driver. As he drove, we exchanged life stories.
As we passed answers and questions between each other, I remembered an exchange I had earlier with a cabbie in Chicago, and the memory made me closed off and cautious toward this guy. (That’s a story for later. One that needs all the precise details to be effective.) As we talked, I sensed that he was just normal guy with a wife and kids, doing his job. I opened up more and began talking normally. Normal talk for me is very animated and bright. After awhile, he asked me this:
“Are you from England?” After a puzzled negative from me, he said, “Oh. I just asked because you sound like you’ve got a British accent.” I then explained that I was from the city we were in, and the conversation went on.
Just today, I was on an empty bus. Sometimes when it’s empty, the bus driver feels chatty and I end up standing just behind the yellow line, within conversation range. He asked me, just as we pulled onto Harrison:
“Are you from New York?” Sure enough, he thought I had a New York accent.