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Daddy's Limo
Daddy's Limo
Daddy's Limo
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Daddy's Limo

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A collection of short stories. Experiences and observations while riding public transportation in California, having lost my driver's license and car, following my divorce.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherGlenn Clarke
Release dateDec 24, 2015
ISBN9781514867716
Daddy's Limo
Author

Glenn Clarke

I was born in New York to parents rich in the heritage of Jamaica, Panama, and of course, America. The heritage created a 'can do' attitude. Raised in California, Glenn has a unique and realistic grasp of life, "coast to coast"... His adventures over the years have opened his eyes and world, pushing him toward being a better father, brother and human; enjoying "the ride" all the way! Glenn currently resides in Southern California as a proud Dad of three amazing children, and Papa to his two beautiful grand-kids.

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    Daddy's Limo - Glenn Clarke

    CHAPTER 01:

    DADDY'S Limo

    DADDY'S LIMO

    Riding a bus by oneself can be an adventure unto itself let alone problematic, as one can see from the writing in this book. Add to that, having to take it with one's small child can even be more ... well, enthralling, to say the least for both.

    I had been riding the bus for a few years, and my daughter would ride often enough with me to have some feeling for what bus riding was like.  At the time, my daughter had to be around five or six years of age. While waiting for our particular bus, several other busses passed us by, but none of them was the one that we needed.  Waiting is part of the process.  Our numbered bus finally came into view and as it did, my daughter shouted, There comes Daddy’s Limo!  I was almost embarrassed.  I was looking around to see if anyone had heard.  Not sure if they did, but we proceeded to get on that bus which would later be changed to Daddy’s Limo.  I quietly asked her why she called the bus Daddy’s Limo, and her reply was that there were lots of people in it and some seemed to be having fun.  Pretty good answer, right? 

    We boarded Daddy’s Limo and there was only one seat available.  I asked her, Why don't you take that seat?  In the seat next to the empty one was an overweight, not so handsome guy.  She looked up at me with those kind of eyes that convey distress, almost as if to say, Dad, you are not gonna ask me to sit next to that guy are you? I don't like him.  I tried to sit her down next to him but she resisted with as much of her little body could drum up.  It worked.  Between her resistance and those eyes she got her way. She stood with me the whole time we were on Daddy’s Limo.

    CHAPTER 02:  MALAISE

    MALAISE OF DAILY LIMO RIDING

    ––––––––

    Most people have probably experienced malaise of some type during their life. It is an uneasy feeling attributed to a sense of hopelessness.  Riding these Limos can certainly create a sense of malaise, if one lets it.  Many of us are at an economic level, which is sometimes called, just getting by.  We live from paycheck to paycheck and sometimes not even that. Many of us desire to get out of this situation, but either cannot, or it takes so long to do so that it appears we cannot. 

    All public Limo transportation is not created equal. Think about Europe's mass transit systems versus say, India's or certain South American cities, versus that of the United States.  As divergent as those are from each other, so too are ours in the United States. They differ from region to region.  Inter-city Limo demographics can be as diverse as intra-city Limo lines.  It all depends upon the sections of a city one travels through.

    My experiences in Europe were stimulating, if not exhilarating at times. The types of people on most of their Limos had a certain positive attitude about the way they carried themselves, as well as conducting themselves.

    While traveling on much of Los Angeles' Limo, there is a certain malaise that seems to cast its pall over those who ride.  It is almost like a feeling of resignation. Somewhat like what dying might be like - being resigned to a fate which one has no control over.  I have had this feeling many times.  And, if one looks at many of the other people's faces, it appears that they might be thinking that way, too. Malaise is a terrible way to feel.  So my daughter’s use of the term Daddy’s Limo could not have come at a better time.  It allowed me to use that concept to view my day-to-day ride in a different light.  More of fun and inquisitiveness.

    CHAPTER  03:  KIDS AND STUFF

    ITCHING POWDER

    ––––––––

    I talked earlier about kids and their mischievousness. Well, here is another example of that.   Another beautiful day in Los Angeles. What a nice day on the Limo, too.   Nothing out of the unusual happening.   Uh oh! I spoke too soon.   In front of me I noticed some kids giggling.   I was curious as to why?   So, of course I observed.  Whoa!  There was an older man in front of them scratching.   He was doing so in a furious manner.   It was as though nothing he was doing alleviated his angst.

    So far, he didn’t seem to be aware why he was scratching. He did not know the source of his pain, yet!  The kids were sprinkling itching powder down the neck of his open collar!   This sounds like something out of Huck Finn.   I didn’t know itching powder even existed anymore, let alone kids in this day and age using it.   Just at the moment the old man realized why he was itching, his antagonists leave the Limo in a flurry of boisterous laughter. 

    That’s almost as good as when my friends and I used berries in our blow darts, aiming at passing cars. Yes, you'll have to wait for that story.

    DROPPED OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET

    Wow! I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it myself. Yeah, you know, I was riding the Limo.   There were these five young kids, high school age.   They were acting up on the Limo like nobody’s business!  I know, kids always act up, especially during the teenage years.  These kids, however, were downright obnoxious, and on the verge of physically bothering other passengers.  

    Now, my past experiences have been that most of us, including the drivers, try to ignore such goings-on, short of a mass killing.   But this driver apparently had had enough.   He had repeatedly asked them to settle down and be respectful, Guys, you need to settle down and stop bothering the passengers. If you don’t, you will have to leave the Limo. Believe me these kids didn’t deserve his calm demeanor, but that was not going to last long as you will soon see.  And, one of the replies was, Who are you MF?  You certainly aren’t my daddy, so just mind your own business.   Now, I need to be a little more descriptive here.   The kids were white, and the driver, a tall muscular black man about six feet and weighing approximately 240lbs.   Age-wise, he was somewhere between 45 and 55 years old and physically fit.  (It is accepted fact that many times it is difficult to tell a black person’s age.  So a + or - 10 year window is usually a good call and usually to the better).  The other thing is that one cannot get away with getting in any black man’s face without expecting an appropriate response.  These kids had crossed a line that, well...just read on. 

    The next thing I knew the Limo stopped abruptly – in the middle of the road and not at a Limo stop. All eyes were now fixated on the driver as he moved toward those belligerent kids.   He walked toward the kids near the rear exit doors.   The rear door was open.   Off! he said, Off!   One kid got up close and personal!   You can’t do a thing.  You can’t touch us. Go ahead. You will lose your job.   At that, the driver said, Right now, I don’t give a fuck. Get the hell off my Limo!  At that point, the ringleader kid jumped in the driver’s face.   They actually touched, and the driver pushed him toward the door.    The other four kids were jeering this scene on. 

    All this was unfolding much faster than I am writing this.   This live performance was about to go nuclear.   You can see Chaka Zulu about to unleash his wrath with disregard for his own welfare. He will take all these kids down and not care about the consequences to himself or them.   Remember, the Limo was still in the middle of the street.   They had dared him to call the police, they had dared him to do something, and now he was!   Suddenly, sirens were heard. My Doppler senses were not working well because, I could not tell from what direction they were coming.   I don’t believe anyone else could either. But, it was as if the Calvary was on its way, and none too soon!   At that moment, the kids seemed to be in disbelief.   They had dared him to call the cops.   No one knew if he did or not. Yet, seemingly here were the cops on their way to the rescue.   So, the hyenas looked at each other and all jumped from the Limo in the middle of the road, and scattered.   The Limo driver began laughing, and so did I.   Why? Because the police response that caused the kids to flee was not for us!   They were on their way to another call.   So, those kids jumped ship before their ass whoopin’, said the driver, laughing as he walked back to his seat.   We could now continue on our journey.

    HE HAS A GUN!

    Kids!   Every generation has its share, thank goodness.  Perpetuation of the species.  Each generation of kids turns into adolescence before adulthood and hopefully maturity.  But before that, these young ones have a knack for fun, rambunctiousness, and mischievousness.  The majority of us adults have ‘been there done that’.  I definitely have more than my share of stories to tell about the crazy things I did as a kid that I thought was fun, but probably others might not.  I will relate just one here. 

    Some friends and I were trying to figure out something fun to do other than our normal stuff.  Then one of us came up with a brilliant idea!  Why don’t we take shots at passing cars and see if we can hit them? We all agreed.  It’s not what you think.  We were using long straws like blow darts.  Our bullets were berries found on the neighborhood shrubs. The berries hardly made noise loud enough to hear upon contact.  That made them the perfect stealth weapon.  No one would know that their car had been hit until they got out and looked around it.  These berries also left a good stain after splattering upon contact.  We thought that was fun being able to hit as many fast moving cars as possible. What harm would that do, right? 

    Well, we got better at actually hitting these targets. So good, that we hardly ever missed.  So we had to up the ante.  Could we hit the person inside the moving vehicle, provided the window was open?  Yep!  We could... and we did. 

    One day I properly gaged the correct speed, wind and angle to actually hit a driver in a moving vehicle.  He was bald headed.  And after hitting him, he was mad!  Mad enough to stop his car and chase us.   No, we were not caught.   My friends and I thought it was harmless fun.   We could have caused an accident.  But that did not cross our minds at the time.  Keep these last three concepts in mind: harmless fun, could have caused an accident, did not cross our minds. 

    Just another normal Limo travel day.  The kids in this Limo that I was traveling with must have thought the same thing - that is... harmless fun, could have caused an accident or worse, the seriousness of what was said did not cross their minds.

    It was a beautiful day out.  The Limo stopped at the first school on its route where it would almost fill to its capacity with the kids from the first school.   As the now filled to capacity Limo ambled along, it seemed to moan. The Limo driver was a man of small physical stature, possibly of Latin heritage.   We were approaching the second school. Just as we were about to stop to pick up the next group of kids, someone shouted,   He’s got a gun!   I was one of the few adults in the Limo, and I was sitting toward the front and within eyesight of this driver.   He looked at me frightfully and hesitatingly, as if looking for some approval or disapproval from me.   I gave him a look that did not solicit any answer. However, just as he was about to stop, he gunned the accelerator of the Limo and passed up the waiting students. The driver’s face though, did not smile at all. And neither did mine...at first.

    Then, a roaring cheer rose out from most of the students.  The kid who made the boisterous accusation stated that there never was any gun. This group of kids did not want to have the driver pick up the other waiting students.   His schoolmates were in tacit agreement not to pick up those other group of kids from the other school, as well. At that, I laughed too.   I thought it was ingenious, but fraught with a definite degree of danger.   Someone could have responded with a gun.  There could have been an undercover cop in our Limo, or the driver could have requested for police assistance. 

    Kids!

    JAY WALKING KIDS

    When does the statement Kids will be kids not apply?   What is the demarcation line?   I am not sure what that may be.   But, I definitely know when that line is crossed.   Such a line was crossed on this particular day while waiting for my Limo.

    I believe there are few people in modern 21st century cities that have not jaywalked at some point.   I am part of that multitude.   I know that I am in the wrong, but I

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