“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.


I got into the car and greeted my Uber driver.

“This is a nice Lexus,” I admired. “I was actually looking at this model when I was car shopping for my latest car.”

“What car did you buy?” he asked. He was a big-boned black guy with a deliberate speech that had an accent I could not place.

“I got a Honda Civic,” I answered.

There was silence, and I imagined him sorting the inconsistency between my choices.

“I liked this car,” I continued, “but it was too cramped for me.”

“Yes,” he said, knowingly. “I liked it. I bought it because I don’t have wife or family.”

He filled up the space of the driver’s area, but he looked comfortable sitting there.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-eight,” he answered.

“You’ve got time,” I said. We rode on.

“How old are you?” he asked me.

“Forty-one,” I answered.

“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.

I paused before speaking. I liked his curiosity. No one had actually asked me that before.

“I like adventurous girls,” I answered. “But adventurous girls don’t like to settle down.”

“Yea,” he smiled. “Have fun while you can.”

Then he pulled over to my stop. He turned around and said carefully. “That is why I bought this car. You can have everything you want… if you plan.”

I nodded and opened the door. “You know it,” I said.

I got out and closed door and thought, ‘He does know it. Wiser than I was at his age. Or maybe just more confident in going after what he wanted without fear.’

Digital work in photo by @andreasjd

Thanks to @streetartglobe for sharing.

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