FM-2...

Back to the streets tonight after a day off. I golfed yesterday with an old friend, then had a few beers afterwards and watched the Sens-Sabres game. Pakenham was in good shape, and surprisingly empty. We played 23 holes in about four hours, and I managed an indifferent 81 over the first 18. My knees were pretty sore towards the end of the round. They're arthritic, each having undergone re-constructive surgery due to ancient hockey injuries, and more recently arthroscopic surgery to clean out calcified cartilage and bone chips.

Wednesday was a slow day in the cab. I made a few deliveries, and spent most of the day in a neighbouring town. I was reunited with the Fare Maiden for a 15 minute trip to drive her and her boy home. She was relatively fresh, having had time to bathe this week I suppose. Still, there was a faint, lingering hint of last week's episode. Even though it was 81 degrees (27C) outside, she kept her window rolled up, but I was confident we'd get her home without incident. I was wrong.

About 5 minutes from her turn-off, something evil made my nostrils twitch. My olfactory glands were already on alert, as the psychological scars from last week's epic journey are a long way from healed. My heartbeat quickened, and I held my breath. But my curiousity got the better of me, in the same way that horror movie characters insist on seeking out the source of terror, instead of running from it. In this case, the suspense was shortlived. The terror was evident, and growing moreso. I glanced quickly towards her, my face, no doubt, a mask of fear and confusion, as I tried to determine whether she had detected the same foul vapor that was currently wrapping its invisible, deadly tendrils around me. She appeared stoic, unmoved, completely unaware. If she knew anything, she wasn't coming clean. Not even a glance my way. A masterful poker-face. But she'd played her hand, and no poker face in the world could cover it. I was beginning to feel trapped, a claustrophobic sensation that rolling my window down did little to ease. The vapors rushed past me, slapping me in the face as they were sucked out my window, but thankfully dissipating as we neared the end of the ride. We pulled into her lane, and she smiled, and thanked me for getting her home so quickly. A dazed good-bye was all I could manage. I returned to work, to the highway, with all four windows down, and the radio up, and by the time I was back in town, I was nearly able to breathe again, without fear...