Fleeting thoughts from Gate N
“I didn’t want life to pass me by, you know?”
AJ turned his head just slightly, but enough to put the weight into the intended emphasis to his sentiments, and I could imagine his gaze following his glance behind the fashionable thick-rimmed Euro-style sunglasses.
“Absolutely right.”
I answered almost reflexively. ‘Absolutely’ is a utility player in the vernaculars of anyone in the service industry (consulting, included), often slung around even when a simple ‘yes’ would do -- I guess the (subconscious) intent is to make you sound smart and empathetic. Nonetheless, even as I parted with AJ as his Lincoln Town Car disappeared beyond the curve at the terminal, I could not help but dwell on that ‘almost’ part; if it was just a simple rhetorical response, it would have been “I answered reflexively.” The thought that followed me all the way to the Gate N in Terminal 2 was this: what would you possibly want about the life of managing a small limousine service company that you’d fear the risk of missing out on?
Random conversations with new people are always the most interesting kinds. Just like Forrest Gump’s proverbial “box of chocolates,” you just never know what story you’re about to discover when the casual banter with a total stranger suddenly flickers into a real conversation.
A run-in with an Irishman:
Fado’s, Saturday night. I think I was in a lively debate with my colleague about how the Incans were conquered not by the force of arms by Pizzaro’s laughably dismantled company, but by the decimating force of chicken pox that has preceded them (argument made by Jared Diamond) when a guy from the next table butted in.
“Excuse me, I could not help but overhearing some of your conversation and I think…”
Then Adam came into the light. He’s an Irishman who’s been here a while, and he’s actually worked at the same company I work for, and he actually knows the bartender at my favorite pub in my neighborhood, Duke of Perth. Now we’re exchanging emails and he’s going to write me a short note on where to visit in Ireland in my summer tour there.
Why would two IT guys (one Korean, one Indian) have a heated conversation about effects of western diseases in the New World is besides the point (hehe); the evening turned into three guys (add an Irishman to the mix) talking about all sorts of things from Middle East politics to the virtues of pubs without damn TVs blasting ESPN Sports shows all night.
AJ, not missing out on life:
When he was 18, he got his taxi driver’s license, and he started driving a cab. His first employer charged him higher since he was deemed as a ‘high risk driver’ because of his lack of experience and age, but he was going home every night with $200 in cold cash, no tax. “Just a year of this and save up for college” turned into fifteen years, and AJ now operates a small limousine service with 10 cars in the fleet. Today, our paths cross as he picks me up at Royal York to drive me to the airport.
His multi-tasking puts any high-on-themselves-consultants to shame: while he’s navigating the Town Car through the thick Toronto traffic, he’s able to carry on a lively conversation with me and my traveling companion, joking about the local strip joint where we’re told that we’re sure to be laid for $25 – the girls are all over 85 with at least two good teeth left. Then he gets a call, he immediately turns into all-business, taking calls from customers with exceptional eloquence that exudes business savvy and customer-minded attitude, then dispatching his drivers and reminding them to “call if they run into traffic on the interstate, not 10 minutes after, not 15 minutes after, but AS SOON AS they see traffic.” Then he resumes his stories. He dispatched about four cars in this fashion in the short thirty minute drive from downtown to Pearson International Airport.
He never takes a day off (“this phone goes everywhere with me, and I’ve had to write notes on toilet papers, I’m serious”), his bread-n-butter is his long-time clients (“I can’t joke with her like I’m doing right now, because you know, she’s a real proper lady. Very classy.”), and he shares stories about some occasional no-cash arrangements – entirely on favor-basis – with some clients (“I look forward to taking her calls.”) Cab driving cannot possibly be something that anyone grows up dreaming of doing for living, but there’s a guy who’s truly excited about what he’s doing with his life as a limousine service company owner.
I’m writing this as I sit among the road warriors at the gate, waiting for the delayed flight to turnover. It’s hard to complain about a life where I put in some good time, get paid handsomely for the work I do, have a good career prospect with challenging assignments, and no obligations (marriage, mortgage, loans) that hold me back from being able to enjoy my free time… yet it’s times when I meet people like Adam or AJ when my daily routines feel like emotionless black and white video clips with the volume muted out, then I see new color, notice new sound and notes, and feel things in a very different way.
It’s too bad that most of such times are regrettably fleeting. The flight is boarding in three minutes and I pack up, join the line among the corporate white-collar types, packing into the plane to return to ‘Go,’ collect $200 then get ready for another trip around the board.
AJ turned his head just slightly, but enough to put the weight into the intended emphasis to his sentiments, and I could imagine his gaze following his glance behind the fashionable thick-rimmed Euro-style sunglasses.
“Absolutely right.”
I answered almost reflexively. ‘Absolutely’ is a utility player in the vernaculars of anyone in the service industry (consulting, included), often slung around even when a simple ‘yes’ would do -- I guess the (subconscious) intent is to make you sound smart and empathetic. Nonetheless, even as I parted with AJ as his Lincoln Town Car disappeared beyond the curve at the terminal, I could not help but dwell on that ‘almost’ part; if it was just a simple rhetorical response, it would have been “I answered reflexively.” The thought that followed me all the way to the Gate N in Terminal 2 was this: what would you possibly want about the life of managing a small limousine service company that you’d fear the risk of missing out on?
Random conversations with new people are always the most interesting kinds. Just like Forrest Gump’s proverbial “box of chocolates,” you just never know what story you’re about to discover when the casual banter with a total stranger suddenly flickers into a real conversation.
A run-in with an Irishman:
Fado’s, Saturday night. I think I was in a lively debate with my colleague about how the Incans were conquered not by the force of arms by Pizzaro’s laughably dismantled company, but by the decimating force of chicken pox that has preceded them (argument made by Jared Diamond) when a guy from the next table butted in.
“Excuse me, I could not help but overhearing some of your conversation and I think…”
Then Adam came into the light. He’s an Irishman who’s been here a while, and he’s actually worked at the same company I work for, and he actually knows the bartender at my favorite pub in my neighborhood, Duke of Perth. Now we’re exchanging emails and he’s going to write me a short note on where to visit in Ireland in my summer tour there.
Why would two IT guys (one Korean, one Indian) have a heated conversation about effects of western diseases in the New World is besides the point (hehe); the evening turned into three guys (add an Irishman to the mix) talking about all sorts of things from Middle East politics to the virtues of pubs without damn TVs blasting ESPN Sports shows all night.
AJ, not missing out on life:
When he was 18, he got his taxi driver’s license, and he started driving a cab. His first employer charged him higher since he was deemed as a ‘high risk driver’ because of his lack of experience and age, but he was going home every night with $200 in cold cash, no tax. “Just a year of this and save up for college” turned into fifteen years, and AJ now operates a small limousine service with 10 cars in the fleet. Today, our paths cross as he picks me up at Royal York to drive me to the airport.
His multi-tasking puts any high-on-themselves-consultants to shame: while he’s navigating the Town Car through the thick Toronto traffic, he’s able to carry on a lively conversation with me and my traveling companion, joking about the local strip joint where we’re told that we’re sure to be laid for $25 – the girls are all over 85 with at least two good teeth left. Then he gets a call, he immediately turns into all-business, taking calls from customers with exceptional eloquence that exudes business savvy and customer-minded attitude, then dispatching his drivers and reminding them to “call if they run into traffic on the interstate, not 10 minutes after, not 15 minutes after, but AS SOON AS they see traffic.” Then he resumes his stories. He dispatched about four cars in this fashion in the short thirty minute drive from downtown to Pearson International Airport.
He never takes a day off (“this phone goes everywhere with me, and I’ve had to write notes on toilet papers, I’m serious”), his bread-n-butter is his long-time clients (“I can’t joke with her like I’m doing right now, because you know, she’s a real proper lady. Very classy.”), and he shares stories about some occasional no-cash arrangements – entirely on favor-basis – with some clients (“I look forward to taking her calls.”) Cab driving cannot possibly be something that anyone grows up dreaming of doing for living, but there’s a guy who’s truly excited about what he’s doing with his life as a limousine service company owner.
I’m writing this as I sit among the road warriors at the gate, waiting for the delayed flight to turnover. It’s hard to complain about a life where I put in some good time, get paid handsomely for the work I do, have a good career prospect with challenging assignments, and no obligations (marriage, mortgage, loans) that hold me back from being able to enjoy my free time… yet it’s times when I meet people like Adam or AJ when my daily routines feel like emotionless black and white video clips with the volume muted out, then I see new color, notice new sound and notes, and feel things in a very different way.
It’s too bad that most of such times are regrettably fleeting. The flight is boarding in three minutes and I pack up, join the line among the corporate white-collar types, packing into the plane to return to ‘Go,’ collect $200 then get ready for another trip around the board.
posted by choongster at 7:48 AM
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