Personal Narrative: An Uber Ride

I don’t remember if it was a Lyft or an Uber ride, but last December I picked James from a busy street lined with restaurants on both sides. If not for the smell coming out of the kitchens and overwhelming gas-laced air on the streets, one would think it is where different countries have their embassies. Thai Kitchen, Italian, Chinese, Mediterranean, Brazilian…
Earlier I was glad I dropped off a petulant person who kept shifting from right to left and then back to the right of the backseat, all the time manufacturing a forcefully invoked cough, or loudly swallowing his saliva. I was relieved and hoped the next rider would be an agreeable character. James was, and he sat in the passenger seat, smiling.
That night James was going home and he looked tired. He took a deep breath, “finally, I am going home,” he said with an ecstatic voice. …show more content…
He even had tattoos on his earlobes.
It was a long ride and we chatted, and all the time I observed his friendly and down to earth demeanor, “You seem to be a humble person… did you grow in a farming community?” I asked. Though I know some country people are dour, I couldn’t hide my bias against city people who are mostly self-absorbed, narcissistic and vain. James said he was a city boy through and through, though his grandfather was a farmer.
His father died when he was very young, and his grandfather had filled the void. James talked about his grandfather with nostalgia and subdued emotions. “To me he was a father, a grandfather, and many uncles wrapped in one”, he said.
That much he loved his

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