Wednesday, April 15, 2015

A Moment

There was an intensity to him that made it hard to look away. But not that. Not just that. A sadness. A loneliness. I saw it within him because I recognized it within myself.

I think I'm more alone when I'm with another person in that room for 15 minutes than any other time of the day. Watching as the candles melt down. Wishing I was anywhere but here.

But within that moment when he almost hit me with his taxi, we were looking into each other's souls. The rest of the world drifted away. The sticky summer air clinging to my skin. The awful scent of garbage that penetrated my nostrils after weeks of rotting on the streets. None of it mattered as I lived in that moment. Maybe it's a drippy thing to think. But you ever have an instant connection with someone?

That's what it was.

He followed me with his taxi down the road and I could feel his eyes on me. Did he see what I saw? He must've felt it. Everyday tens upon hundreds upon millions of encounters. People's faces become a blur seeing so many as you walk the overcrowded streets. Until they all melt together into one faceless blob. But his stood out from the crowd. It was that intense look he had. It left me naked. I mean, exposed. It was a strange feeling. Sure, I've been with plenty of guys without my clothes on. I'm not as innocent as I may look. But this was different. It wasn't about sex. Not about that. It just was. And it made me uneasy yet comforted. Is that strange to say? I was comforted by it.  

When I saw him again, I knew it was not an accident. The universe does what it does for a reason.

In the room I played my part like he was one of the others. Their clammy hands pawing at me. That's not what he wanted. He asked if I remembered. Remember when I had gotten into his taxi. Of course. It was universe playing her part again. That was him? Of course it was. It had to have been. I played it cool. How do you tell someone that of course you remember. You remember everything. Everything in your being was telling you to scram from Sport. From the city. From what it was you had become. To never look back.

He could've saved me then.

Why didn't he? It wasn't time then. We needed that moment. The moment on the street. He must've felt it it too. Had he come to save me now? Was it crazy to think so? But it had to be. It had to. He was my avenging angel in a checkered taxi cab. (Geez, don't be such a weirdo.) But he was there to rescue me. Save me. Maybe that's what he saw within that moment. He saw. It was more than just a moment. Perhaps it was my salvation.

This post is part of Nathaniel's weekly series Hit Me With Your Best Shot over at The Film Experience. We live within Travis Bickle's thoughts in the film "Taxi Driver", I used my Best Shot as inspiration to see the film from within another perspective...


  1. Great piece! You make me feel so incompetent at these things. :P

  2. Holy shit dude! Like...I hate how great you are at these!

    Well, hate is a strong word...more like LOVE!