Pericles the Driver

Ten till

I'm standing in my blue interview shirt again, this time by the main entrance of campus and the math building. There is a black car idling silently by the admissions building.

Five till

The morning is so damp it feels like it might rain, or like it is actually constantly misting from the sky. The clouds overhead make the sky dark and prolong the illusion of night.

Time

A man steps out of the car in a suit and stands by the driver's side looking around. At this point I decide to come over and ask him if he's lost. He looks too important to be driving somebody like me, and in the off chance that he is here for some official school business I wouldn't want to offend him. He says he is waiting for a passenger. I tell him my name and that I'm waiting for a ride. Turns out he was the one.

I size up the car. This was my first time any sort of driver had come to pick me up. I'd ridden in cabs before, but the general rule to that is to just pile yourself in the back seat, or in Hong Kong anywhere you would fit. I notice that the front passenger seat is pushed up nearly into the dashboard and folded down, so I assumed I'm suppose to sit directly behind it to take advantage of the leg room offered. I walk up to that side of the car and reach for the door.

The driver stands there looking at me briefly for a moment and then extends his hand. The meaning is clear, Stop. I stand there, quietly wondering if I have offended him, as he walks around the car to stand next to me by the door. He opens it with a slight nod of the head and I get in.

"Thank you Ms. Chu," he says without the slightest hint of sarcasm and shuts the door.

Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore.

The driver got in his door and turned the ignition. I had no idea what to do.

"Thanks to you too!" I manage to piece together as cheerfully as possible. The driver's eyes flickered up to the mirror looking a little puzzled. So, I guess that wasn't right.

"Its my pleasure, Ms. Chu."

Ms. Chu? The words seem foreign.

"You...can call me Pika if you like."

"Well it is my pleasure, Pika."

"What's your name?"

"Pericles."

"That's an awesome name, like the ancient Greek right?"

Pericles gives me his first genuine smile, "You have heard of him?"

"Athenian statesman? Founder of democracy?"

Pericles is grinning pretty widely by now, "You know, not a lot of people get that."

I laughed a little, "Well I'm a nerd. That a family name?"

"Nope, my mom just thought it sounded cool."

There was a brief comfortable silence. This time he broke it.

"So what are you going to General Dynamics for?"

"An interview."

"Really? I don't drive many interviewees, especially not this distance. You special?"

I hate that question. There's no easy way to answer it without sounding like an egotistical prick or seeming like you are fishing for compliments. "I guess they think so."

The phone rang. It was the next interview I was going to have, asking me if I could confirm a time later that week. I explained that I was away from my desk for the day asked them to email me.

Pericles grinned again, "That your next interview after this one?"

I didn't know what to say so I looked up at him blankly. Pericles smiled, "Don't worry, its the smart thing to do."

"You won't tell them?"

Pericles laughed, "No, I'm not an employee. Even if I tried they wouldn't listen to me." He adjusted the collar of his suit for a quick moment with one hand and then delicately placed it back on the wheel. It seemed a practiced motion which he meant to use to express professionalism. "Most people," he said, continuing this strange series of motions which clearly had some sort of significance which was beyond my grasp, "don't think of me as a professional because I do not have the same sort of job that they do. Some of them barely regard me as a person. They talk in front of me like a dog, like I can not understand them. You would be amazed at some of the things that have been discussed in my car."

I was quiet because there did not seem to be anything to say to that.

"So who do you drive normally?"

"Rich people," he responds, "guests for most of the major tech companies around here, and airport pickups / drop-offs for the more important employees of the same companies."

"Huh." I wasn't really confused but it seemed like the right time to make some sort of noise to indicate I was still listening.

"I have one couple who I drive a lot, the wife mostly. They have no need to work anymore so they just travel the world."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What do they do?"

"Well they ran out of normal places they go so now they go on expeditions...they go live in the desert for a few months with the peasants...you know...get the experience."

"Sounds neat, or like a tourist trap."

"Really? I think it sounds lame. Even if you are getting the real deal you're paying a ton of money, enough to live any way in the world you want, to live like a third world peasant. Its the ultimate proof, the grass is always greener on the other side."