Texas Hospitality

Sorry to be away so long. Things have been absolutely insane lately. More about that later.

Last week, I was in Dallas to witness the first production run of a product that took seventeen long months to bring to market. Watching a pallet being stacked with the first cases off the line was a tad emotional for me.

It was like giving birth.

With a really LONG gestation period.

Like an elephant.

I took pictures.

And stroked one of the cases lovingly while whispering, "Fly off the shelf, baby".

I called for a taxi to take me to the airport for the flight home. It was driven by a very, very, very large man and as I climbed into the minivan, I was hit with the overpowering scent of cinnamon. I commented about the smell. I think I said, "Wow! your car smells like Christmas"...or something like that.

He enthusiastically held up a bottle of pink Febreeze which turned out to be Apple Spice Delight fragrance. And I am sure that under normal circumstances, it is probably a lovely scent but the dude kept spraying little puffs every five minutes or so and what was at first, a pleasant diversion quickly turned into a cloying, eye-watering, get-me-out-of-this-vehicle experience. I was afraid my clothes would be saturated with the smell by the time we reached the airport. I struggled not to gag.

I rolled down the window in an effort to keep breakfast in my stomach and as the cloud of Christmas was swept outside, I understood why the driver kept his Febreeze bottle so handy. Buried underneath all of that apple and cinnamon, was a mixture of sour sweat, greasy fries and dirty bum. There was a large, grimy patchwork comforter inhabiting the front passenger seat and a small suitcase in the very back of the van. Then, it hit me.

My driver was living in his taxi.

Since I am not the most subtle girl on the block, I came out and asked him what was up with the bedding in the front seat. I half expected him to tell me he napped between fares but he unselfconsciously confirmed my suspicions and shared that he was homeless after foreclosing on his house. For the rest of the day, I had a hard time thinking about anything else.

It's really not a level playing field out there and I suppose we are all products of the choices we've made but as I snuggled next to my hubby in our king bed that night, after a hot shower and a home cooked meal, in our comfortable house, in our sleepy, safe neighbourhood, I felt a gratitude that has been absent for a few months.

I despise the use of the cliché, "it could be worse" but when I think about where that taxi driver is likely to lay his head tonight, I know that for some people, the worst has arrived.

Makes my heart hurt.