To the Top

Just met a cab driver named Solomon.


Tall, crooked teeth, one missing in the front.


Moved to the states from Somalia fifteen years ago.


We talked about Nashville and the tourist season.


He told me about how folks like to immigrate to places that “give handouts".


He said he can’t stand that and people shouldn’t just sit around, having kids, not looking for work.


He asked if I agree, and I said, sure folks maybe shouldn’t be having kids if they can’t afford to, but it is pretty hard to find work sometimes.


"What you mean?" he asked, critically scanning my uniform.


I told him about when I first moved down here, living in my car, trying to find a job, stuff like that.


He said, “but now you’ve made it to the top" and laughed.


Guess so, I replied with a shrug.


He asked me my name and we shook hands, revealing a second degree burn, undressed, on his right arm. He’d gotten it making tea, from the steam. Even as he told me how it hurt, gazing down at the pink splotches, the jagged smile from when he first mentioned his house a few blocks from here full of family and love, it did not fade.


Soon, a large group of white North Dakotans, part of a church or a school group or something, bustled in, loud and anxiously grumpy.


Their leader smiled at me as she checked out, grabbing a brochure for a souvenir and letting me know how many times their flights had been canceled or delayed.


I wished her safe travels, and they all piled into Solomon’s yellow van.


My mind swims back to earlier this evening when the drunk man in the pink polo called me an asshole ‘cause I didn’t have a lighter. I’m pretty sure he thought he was whispering.






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Hey Internauts!



For those of you in the PA/DE/NJ/MD area, I'm playing a show with Whitney McCombs and New Shields on July 16th to Benefit the Bridge! Check HERE for more info!