Car Pool Log: 2006 07-28

Blue Saturn. Eclipse gum and a Pretty Girls Make Graves CD in the cubbies inbetween the driver’s and passenger’s seat. In the backseat was a yellow plastic bag possibly filled with clothes or some other kind of material. NPR on the radio. While driving over the bridge, before Treasure Island, Driver tried moving into the right lane just when a red pick-up was doing the same. I put my hand against the door and made a sound indicating that she may want to reconsider.

“Oh,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sorry about that.”

I laughed along with her. “That’s alright.”

“Too much coffee this morning,” she said.

Car Pool Log: 2006 07-27

BMW – SRS, older model. Tan and black interiors; had a familiar smell similar to Jamie’s car in Japan. Driver pulled up with Second Passenger and he offered to take a forth. I was interested in figuring out his relationship with the woman in the front. He was maybe in his early fifties and she in her early forties. At first I wondered if they were husband and wife. There was a stain on the back of the passenger seat, looked like someone threw a small egg against the seat, shells and yolk smeared down the back. I wondered if they had any children. I imagined one; a boy, in college. Then I thought that she was his second wife because of her clean and orderly appearance and the way she applied her mascara. It’s possible they were co-workers but there was a familiarity in the way they were with each other; he fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and the way she seemed so comfortable in the car. Driver offered to move his chair up for Fourth Passenger. He said it wouldn’t be necessary but Driver did it anyway.

Car Pool Log: 2006 07-25

Gold Cadillac, khaki colored interiors. I got in the car behind the Cadillac at first, assuming there was already a full car ahead because another passenger went for the second car. The Cadillac in front honked and the driver of the car I got into said that I should go to the next car.

I got into the Cadillac and Driver jokingly said, “You choose the gas-friendly car over my guzzler of a Cadillac!”

I laughed along with him. “I’m not that self-righteous to make a judgment call like that,” I said.

“It actually gets good mileage,” he said.

Driver had a heavy foot, especially with the brake. Driving in the car you could feel the weight of the metal, of the engine as it glided over the freeway. You knew you were riding in something solid. I was entranced by the medallion on the hood of the car. Listened to NPR radio.

Driver said he was going to the parking garage at Mission and Market. I was confused and still relaxed from my vacation. “It’s okay to be dropped off before that, yeah?” I suddenly felt like a beach bum. I smiled internally.