All for free: sunshine, rain, wind that blows, crunchy yellow leaves, dust... all for free.
All for free: the occasional bus ride, apple, meal, pen, photocopy, thermos of tea... all for free.
All for free: grace. All of it. Free.
The sparse street lights left modest pools of dim yellow light on the nearly blackened closing down for the night street. A blue and white cab pulled up to the curb where I was standing and I got in the front seat.
The nearly bald somewhat elderly driver with a round face and orange jacket stumbled over my school's name several times before, with slurred speech and eyes glinting with mirth from the light of the dashboard, he maneuvered the taxi across the dim street in the correct direction.
Pedestrians moved like shadows on shadow as the taxi rolled drowsily through the streets. He was chatty and as the outlines of buildings slid past in the darkness we had the following conversation in my painfully stark Chinese:
He: You're beautiful
I: Nope
He: Where are you from?
I: America
He: Are you a teacher?
I: Yes, English
He: English is so good
I: Yes
He: Do you have a boyfriend?
I: Yes
He: Is he Chinese?
I: No
He: How old are you?
I: I don't know
He: Do you drink beer?
I: No
He: I will tell you my phone number and you can call me then we can be friends is it okay?
I: Sure
I: I don't speak Chinese.
He: hehehehe
He mystified me as he actually obeyed traffic rules, drove a reasonable speed, and stopped at the lights. I saved his number in my phone as "crazy taxi" an adjective describing the overall night rather than the driving. He, in no rush to actually get me to my destination, pulled up next to another cab, rolled down my window and proceeded to gleefully declare our friendship as I sunk lower in the seat and covered my face with my hand.
The Potala loomed darker than ever in our rearview mirror and the stars twinkled bright overhead.
I couldn't help but giggle behind my hand as he continued to chatter away at me, chuckling to himself, and at one point reaching over to turn up what could have been a theme song for the 1970's on the car stereo. By the time we arrived at my nearly deserted school gate, in the alternate universe I currently live in, we probably had become friends.
So he nearly drove right by then stopped at my school gate. I reached in my pocket and pulled out the crumpled ten yuan note to pay the fare. He refused to take it, I left it on the dashboard, he grabbed it and stuffed it back into my hand...
He: WE ARE FRIENDS. You don't pay.
I: Really?
First, and possibly last, free taxi ride of my life. Awesome.
Free... that's definitely in my budget.
