Taximan At It Again

Yesterday was my last day at Bro Bro's shop. It's been a fun stint. I enjoyed the structure to my day and I learned what a patient and generous man Bro Bro is. Not that I've ever thought him mean and petty, I've just never really defined his qualities.

One of these qualities is his mysterious relationship with Taximan. They were high school buddies. But their paths have been very different since, yet they remain fast friends. Bro Bro is a pharmacist with an MBA, he has a family and a house in the suburbs, he has a business, he has been a good son who has fulfilled his filial duty by incorporating his father in his business life in real, meaningful ways. Taximan ended his education after high school, he lives with his parents, he drives a taxi, part time. On the surface, they don't have much in common. I've always thought Taximan a friendly guy, but beyond that, I have not given him much thought because I don't see much of him. Until my stint with Bro Bro, that is.

Bro Bro and Taximan are easy-going fellas. Bro Bro is one of Taximan's clients. He does deliveries for Bro Bro, and over the years, he's learned to be Bro Bro's assistant so he fills in when needed. They have a business and personal relationship that is rooted in the comfort of a common, happy past. Most of all, they are always so themselves and naturally considerate of each other, and they have enviously simple needs.

Yesterday, Taximan said, "I'm out there everyday and can get whatever I want. But your Bro Bro's stuck in here all day everyday. I gotta bring the guy some variety." Unfortunately, that variety is often expressed in food. Maybe that's fortunately, given how much pleasure we derive from eating.

So for my last day, we decided to have Jamaican jerk food. I wanted jerk chicken and salad. Bro Bro wanted ox tail and a side of jerk pork. Taximan came in with everything as requested. Our meals sat on huge mounts of rice and beans, with spicy brown sauce slathered all over. Only, Taximan was having lasagna instead of jerk.

I said, "How come you're not having jerk?"

He said, "'I went to Zoulpy's for the salad because they make the best salads (they are certainly the freshest) and the woman said to me, 'Hey Taximan, we got fresh lasagna today. Want a piece?' So I said sure. Then I went to get the jerk for you guys."

"Do you eat whatever people tell you to eat?"

"I'm not fussy."

Then he offered me some of his lasagna. I had a taste but I said, "Lasagna, jerk, lasagna, jerk...I can't manage both."

He said, "What is it with women having to coordinate their food? Does this food match that food...? It's just food, you don't need to colour coordinate them or anything. They all end up in the same place after."

Because the shop was still open for business, we wolfed down lunch in 20 minutes. That's too fast for me. After, I was panting and sweating from eating. I said, "I feel like I've just done a marathon."

Taximan said, "Psh...A little bit of chicken and rice and you're sweating? You're not even in the same league."

At the time, I wanted to shout, I am so in the same league. How dare you slight me? Bring it on, I'll prove to you I can chow down as much as you and more. But that was only temporary insanity thinking, induced by eating spicy food too fast. Now that I am sitting in the quiet of my home, I am thinking, No, I don't want to go near that league. I don't want to be obese. I don't want to not taste my food. I don't want to belch with heartburn and indigestion. I don't want to be slovenly full time.

But it sure was fun being all that and eating with gusto each time Taximan visited.