“Birthday on the 25th,” Isaac is saying, referring to himself. Isaac is in a work-release program at Burger King, and sometimes he pays me with food instead of fare. Why can’t it be like that all the time?
“Twenty-fifth a coupla days ago, or next–”
“Next month, August. And my daughter turnin’ sixteen on the 24th of August.”
“Whoa, wow! Excellent. Sixteen. She’ll be drivin’ soon.”
“Yup.”
“She live in the area?”
We talk a bit more. I mention my birthday being in March, and the lively Filipino woman behind us inquires further: “March what?”
“The twelfth!”
“Ooohhhh! My nephew, it’s the 13th! And then my daughter-in-law, March 17th! Plus two others in my family, I’m surrounded by fishes!”
“That’s good, right?”
“Well, my nephew, I told him if he turned out like the others I’d kill him with my bare hands!”
She’s joking, of course. I think.
“Oh my goodness!”
“He turned out well. He’s a good provider. Maybe too good.”
“I don’t have a family,” I muse aloud. “Maybe one day.”
“Oh why not?” asks the Filipino lady. She’s very interested.
Oh dear, I think. Why did I say that aloud? No time to get into it all. I give them the short answer: “I haven’t found the right young lady yet!”
“That’s because you work at night!”
A working-class Latino man sitting further back, halfway down, is listening and smiling. Filipino lady and I rib each other good-naturedly as she continues holding forth: “How can you expect to find a girl when you work at night? Of course you’re single! Even a nice cute handsome guy like you–”
“But I like driving at night!” This gets a rich smile from the listening Latino man, who looks to work odd hours himself. Filipino lady’s not having it, though–
“Then you need to meet a nice girl who works at a hospital! That’s what you need to do. I know them. All you have to do is go to Virginia Mason. Seventh Floor.”
“Oh, is that right? Is that where all the ladies are hiding?”
“I know everything.”
“That’s excellent!”
“I’m telling you, Virginia Mason, there’s plenty of wonderful nurses, very bright,”
“Up on the seventh floor, you said?”
“The seventh floor.”
“Well, I guess if I ever want to meet someone, now I know where to go… the seventh floor? What about the sixth floor?”
“I’m serious! You have no excuse now! I’m the matchmaker! I know where all the girls are. I have to look out for my grandsons when they come of age!”
“My parents will have you to thank if they have grandchildren!”
“Or at you know, Fourth and Seneca? I know where all the young women go–”
“Fourth and Seneca?? What’s at Fourth and Seneca?”
“I’m telling you, I know these things. Hey. Isn’t this weekend the big, the big you know, the fair,”
“Seafair?”
“Yeah, Seafair. So many women go to that. Everyone goes. All you have to do is go. What are you doing this weekend?”
Enthusiastically: “Working!”
Of course! Everyone–she, me, Isaac, the listening guy, burst out laughing. But I really am happy to be here. I enjoy hearing her silliness. In truth, I didn’t say what would have ended our pleasant conversation–I love driving at night. I do the things I like to do, and trust in the universe to provide. It’s worked pretty great so far.
Nathan Vass is an artist, filmmaker, photographer, and author by day, and a Metro bus driver by night, where his community-building work has been showcased on TED, NPR, The Seattle Times, KING 5 and landed him a spot on Seattle Magazine’s 2018 list of the 35 Most Influential People in Seattle. He has shown in over forty photography shows is also the director of nine films, six of which have shown at festivals, and one of which premiered at Henry Art Gallery. His book, The Lines That Make Us, is a Seattle bestseller and 2019 WA State Book Awards finalist.