A 3-week long business trip a few weeks ago began in early March at 6:15am when Scotty pulled up to the house in his taxi. I got into the back seat and, having used Scotty’s airport service several times, asked Scotty how he was doing.
“I’m cold, man!”
“Yeah? How cold is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s freezing. It’s like 42 degrees or something”.
Scotty’s a great, affable guy. If he didn’t tell you, you’d be able to guess in 5 minutes that he’s a Redwood City native, born and raised.
I said, “Are you kidding? I’m going to Chicago! Don’t complain to me about being cold!”
Hours later upon exiting the airport in Chicago, I met Jonas. Jonas is a taxi driver my parents use often and speak of highly. I had never met him and, not having any other options, I had arranged for him to pick me up. He pulled up to the curb and shook my hand vigorously.
As he put my suitcase in the trunk he said, “Welcome to Chicago! You’ve come on an absolutely beautiful day–it’s like 42 degrees or something!”