The Donut Ring (Part 2)

I have always pay more for things that I buy. Like the Bluebird watch I had. Which was stolen. And the shoes I am wearing. I buy them out of embarrassment. My whole life is an embarrassment.

The taxi driver helps me to put the yellow case in the trunk. Then we get into the taxi, which really isn't a taxi. It is a sport car in purple color.

"Is this your car?" I clear my throat.

"Ya" says the taxi driver. "Ya,ya" he repeats. He puts the gear into the drive position and steps on the gas. And while he is doing that, he also winks at one of the trolley guys. Like they have some kind of deal. Or maybe even a bet. To bet he could take someone who is willing to pay 70 dollars perhaps. I don't know.

"I work here at the airport" grins the taxi driver. "I take care of the trolleys"

I look at him and suddenly remember what the wink was all about.

"I work for the night shift" he says. "So this is like a part time"

I nod and keep quiet. What do I know anymore? Just bring me safe to the where I am going.

"Where are you from?" he looks over at me. And I quickly raise my eyes on the road. Because he isn't.

"Dumbville" I say and keep my eyes on the traffic.

"Oh Dumbville!" he says. "But you don't sound like you are from Dumville?"

I slow down my thoughts as he is over taking the car in front. "Uhm, I am actually born here."

"Lady driver" he looks over at the car he is over taking. He starts to say something but changes his mind.

He gives his head a little shake. "What do you do?"

I wish I could figure this out. I don't know really. But "Advertising" I say.

"Ah, advertising" he nods. "What are you doing here?"

"I am returning this thing at the back" with my thumb pointing at the trunk.

"What is it?" he looks over at me as if it is my fault not to tell him what it is. I don't know. Or maybe I am just too sensitive after what happened this morning.

Anyway, "Donut Ring" I say. What else could I say? It has to be a Donut Ring.

The Donut Ring (Part 1)

I have some business to take care of up north. Or rather, I have someone else's business to take care of up north. So I took a plane up here. By the time I get out from the arrival hall, there are 17 taxi drivers waving at me. Probably because I am carrying this really yellow yellow case. God. Where is a subtle case when you need one?

"Town? Town?" say the drivers. "60 dollars!"

I put my ears in my pocket and walk away. After several tries to catch up with me, they give up and turn to someone else. "Town? Town? 60 dollars!"

I get out of the airport and light a cigarette. I blow smoke and remember how horrible this morning was. Something about, god, about the donut ring. What is it about the donut ring? God. Where is a normal thing to think about when you need one?

"Hello?" here comes a proffesor. Although he is not. He is a taxi driver. But he dresses well. Just like how I would like to dress when I am his age. You know, the older kind of age.

I say hello and put out my cigarette.

"Where are you going? says the professor, no, the taxi driver.

I put my hands in my pocket. I do that when I feel awkward. "This place called RSVP."
"Do you know where it is?" I continue.

"Ya" he says. And then he repeats again. "Ya, ya"

"60 dollars?" I look at the taxi driver and how well he had ironed his shirt.

"70 dollars" he looks at my yellow case. God. Where is a subtle case when you need one?

But I nod and say okay. I'll pay him 10 dollars for the well ironed shirt.