Carpool

Aw, the lesser known of American suburban splendors: the commute. Most people who talk, and all who participate in the commute talk about the commute, say that they have the worst one. Five hours in bumper to bumper, stuck behind a fleet of school buses, catching every protest that happened to come through town, behind an idiot every hour of the commute, and catching every wreck. There are millions of faces staring back at each other on the drive in but, the only faces that make it into the talk  in the commute are those in the car pool. Faces, none the less, that are the farthest thing away from joy; a world that couldn’t be described with any black and white ink from Webster’s.  These people make it into the talk because they are experiencing it all with you; you are all united in the one constant effort to make it to the next Friday. Their feelings and yours are what makes your commute the worst commute in the history of America.

            It is these feelings that bring about the more awkward and, yet, awe inspiring small talk ever heard. Because, no matter how hard Robert had tried or sworn to himself that work was work and social was social, spending eight hours with the same people for five days a week was bound to bring about talk of something besides the office. Robert liked this of course, he preferred not having to talk about the office before his first four cups of coffee but, awkward talk was not his forte.

            Initially the talk had been introductory; a casual where you from, and what kind of B.Sdegree you had. A joke was poked at the college sports team you never watched or the slutty girl from the guy’s high school that you should have known out of the 20,000 people that went to your college. From here you got to know your car pool and expand it until you found yourself only having to drive once a month. You got to know the man you thought was the most like you because you were both single and liked to party. You began to never know the father of two who was having all the fun in the world but no fun at all. You got to know the man who would go out for a drink and play it cool; only to end up not being cool at all. No commute had these types exactly but, Robert’s car pool had these people exactly; all lined up thinking they knew anything about Robert but at the same time knowing nothing of Robert.

            The younger man was taller than Robert; a son of one of the higher ups in the company with black hair, blue eyes and an attempt at a beard. He was drifting along in an ocean thinking he was in a pond. His name was Kevin McDaniels and he wasn’t a bad fellow in most people’s minds. Kevin couldn’t think of any other place to be but, at the same time, he talked like he was always going somewhere else all the time. Mark Swisher was a twenty five going on forty dad, brown hair, green eyes, two kids and always seeming to try to have another one. He acted young but was older than he was.  Then, the perceived straight edge of the group, Daniel (Danny) Gutierrez, shorter Mexican with a mustache bordering on seventies porn star who was always talking like he knew everything and everyone else only knew nothing. He wasn’t always like that but he acted like it enough to make it a distinguishing trait.

            The introductory small talk had become nonexistent over the past year or so; giving way to laughs to exploits of the former weekend or awkward comments that only warranted laughs, so as not to piss off the originators. Laughing was always a good pause to figure out what the hell to say; how to respond to worthless talking that was filling the space. Robert sometimes didn’t mind it; sometimes it was refreshing. Other times he didn’t see the point of it. Why talk like you really give a shit? At the end of the day all you want to do is get away from these people; why act as if you want to get closer? Thoughts like these made Robert think of himself as a hypocrite because these were the same people he looked forward to during the sliver of sunshine that got him through the morning routine.

            “Morning Robert. What’s going down?” the driver, Kevin said as Robert sat in the four door Chevy Cobalt; shotgun.

            “Just trying not to think of work. How’s everyone doing today?” Robert asked; filling the space.

            “Good,” Robert heard, not too sure who said it first.

            “Nice…..had myself a chill weekend. Hung out and watched some ball. Those Packers are looking pretty legit. What happened to your Boys this weekend Danny?” Robert asked; looking behind him at Danny.  

            “Man, every time I watch them I move a little more toward alcoholism. The defense has been off man and I don’t know why. But of course it’s always Romo’s felt,” Danny said; snickering a little at the end.

            “Why do you hate Romo so much? He’s not a bad quarterback,”  Mark said, intervening and gaining a nod of the head from Kevin.

            “You don’t know what it’s like man to have a consistent quarter back, man. Someone who shows up ever week and you know what you’re going to get out of him. I never know what the fuck Romo is going to do. He’s got his brilliant four touchdown games and then he has his happy go lucky four interception games. And….you know….the guy is always smiling man; even when he fucks up he’s never pissed; he’s just always fucking smiling.”

            “What’s wrong with that?” Kevin asked.

            “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it; man….it just bugs me. You need to have some passion in your play man; be a little more involved. I just think you can’t lead without a little bit of passion,” Danny said; looking a little annoyed. Like most, no one ever liked talking when questioned and hardly wanted to be questioned.

            “I just think you hate him because he’s the easiest to blame and the first guy to come under the knife. One of the toughest jobs in sports because of that spot light. So nitpicky. I mean, imagine if our job had media outlets and every dick, jane, and berry talking about us Monday thru Saturday. It’s got to be nerve racking,” Mark said.

            “Ya, but at the end of the day they’re playing a game,” Danny said; sounding a little smart.

            “Its more than a game at that level; it’s their job and a multi-million dollar business. You think that there’s no stress at that level then? You’re living on fantasy island bro, if you do,” Robert said

            “I never said that. It is a game though and…you can’t say that they’re not having fun, you know. It’s got to be one of the better day jobs.”

            “Ah….I don’t know about that man. I wouldn’t want to get hit by 6’5 three hundred pound guys eight hours a week,” Mark commented.

            “I bet you would want 6’5 three hundred pound guys all over you Marky Mark. Ha, ha,” Kevin said; coming in right on time to change the subject before it got too serious.

            “Fuck off man. At least I got a good cover with the wife and kids; no one will ever expect anything. Ha, ha. I had to add that in for the preservation of my self perception,” Mark said; smiling.

            “Keep telling yourself that, little gay boy,” Danny yelled; the car resonating with laughs.

            “Self perception? What, you talking like your image?” Robert asked; trying to get past the annoying laughs.

            “You hit that one on the bull’s eye, Rob. Ya, you got to have a good one of those to get through life. Look good, feel good….that type of deal,” Mark explained.

            “Ya, if you think you’re a piece of shit your work is going to be a piece of shit,” Kevin added.

            “I don’t know man, you think you have a different image of yourself at work then you do at home?” Robert asked, seeing Danny snap out of his morning space out session.

            “It all flows into one mindset eventual. I used to think that I could keep that stuff separate but these last couple of years it’s been tough. I’ve stopped my political correctness and I guess opened up to full disclosure,” Kevin said.

            “You don’t want full disclosure, though, man. Work is work and not play,” Danny said.

            “But, you’re supposed to enjoy what you do, right? Can you get enjoyment without fun? I feel like those go hand in hand,” Kevin said.

            “Ya, but what you’re talking about is the picture you paint when you step in that office. I’m not going to talk about the crazy shit I did over the weekend to some regular guy I do work with. Now, the car pool….that’s a whole different story cause we chill outside of work and I trust you guys. But, you got to be careful what you let on man cause all people need are a little glimpse of who you are. All they need is the back cover of the book and they’ll act like they already read the whole god damn book that is your life,” Danny said; putting some emphasis on the last sentence. How poetic, Robert thought.

            “You can’t just be a robot, man, you know? You have to be able to show a human side so people remember you and don’t just think of you as some statue at work, taking up space,” Mark said; interjecting before Kevin spoke.

            “You could let your work speak for yourself,” Robert said.

            “You just end up being the guy in the corner who’s an “expert”. My dad always said if you want to move up never do too much in your current position to the point where you become crucial and non-expandable. It takes luck and people skills to get up in the world. I mean, if you just want to be that expert cool, you know, whatever….but I just don’t agree with the whole work hard and everything works out. Its Santa Claus shit,” Kevin said; bending forward and letting out a long yawn.

            “Man I don’t want to go to work…..Friday needs to be tomorrow,” Kevin said; rubbing his eyes giving off an air of awkwardness; as if he was scared of revealing his opinion.

            “I mean, it takes a little luck ya, but….sorry back to what you were saying didn’t mean to spoil the bitching session, you build up your own luck, you know. You do something good and, I think, that something good happens,” Robert said.

            “You just say that, though, cause you have good luck,” Danny said.

            “You don’t think you have good luck?” Robert asked.

            “It has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with the guy who just never seems to have anything go right with him his whole life. The guy who’s the nicest guy you know but also has the worst luck. In that situation he must have inherited an empty vault of karma, huh?” Danny asked.

            “There’s always an exception to the rule, Danny. You go through life living off every little exception you’re never going to think anything will work out. You have to have some ideals,” Robert said.

            “You think you need ideals in this day and age? Live life hard and fast; by the sit of your pants and just see what happens,” Mark said, jumping back into the conversation.

            “You would say that’s an ideal, though, Mark. A maybe immature ideal but an ideal,” Kevin said.

            “What’s immature about it? You got to experience life, you know. Man, when you’re young you got to do that kind of stuff…be crazy. You got to be a little selfish before you find something you can love a little more than yourself. I know that sounds vain, but, it’s just what I’ve always thought,” Mark said, setting a sober mood in the car that none of the younger passengers, except Robert, wanted to address. 

            “You know, it’s not bad to be a little selfish. You have to take care of yourself first, you know, and then after that everything will fall in place,” Robert said; thinking it was bullshit at first but hoping it would become fact.

            “You’re really confident in this whole fate thing, huh, man?” Danny asked Robert.

            “No, I don’t believe in fate. Fate is something you don’t have control over. I believe in control, that’s what I believe in,” Robert said.

            “Ya, I like to think that. Sometimes it feels like you don’t have any though. It’s easier to blame and bitch if you think it’s outside of your control,” Mark said.

            “I don’t know Mark. I don’t like to whine like a bitch about stuff so I just assume I can do whatever the hell I want. HA!” Kevin sarcastically said.

            “Well, you’re not surrounded by women all day. I think women are born with that inherent ability. Fuck cancer, map the genome and figure out what the bitching gene is,” Mark said, rolling with the sarcasm.

            “They would get rid of it then, if they found it. Then I wouldn’t be attracted to any women,” Danny said.

            “You like them with attitude, huh, Dan?” Mark asked.

            “Oh ya. They have to have opinions, you know. Just the right combination of a little annoying and intelligence. They have to keep me interested, you know man,” Danny said; smiling on a topic that piqued his interest.

            “I feel that man. I feel that a lot more then that bright, shiny mecca of productivity in front of us,” Mark said; pointing toward the office; the politically correct term for the building.

            “Shit man, I didn’t release we were that close. Throw the women and children over board first, HA!” Kevin said.

            “It’s okay guys; it is going to be that bad,” Robert said.            

            “Bad as in good? That’s what all the kids are saying now-a-days,” Mark said.

            “That’s what we’re saying now-a-days,” Kevin said.

            “Don’t date me, man,” Mark said.

            “Of course I wouldn’t want to date you. You’re ugly and, unlike Danny, I don’t appreciate a good bitch,” Kevin said; looking at Danny in the rear view and smiling.

            “Well, guys, it was nice knowing you,” Mark said.

            “Till our release date in t-minus 8 hours,” Robert said; the car stopping and everyone not wanting to be the first to open the door.

            Welcome to work.