Projection Project

On quiet cab drivers, I project my fears. On noisy cab drivers, I project my judgments. This is mentally sloppy and also not very nice. But it is easy.

My cab driver last Saturay night wasn’t quiet. He was silent. He said nothing for the 20 minute ride I took in his vehicle. About 5 minutes into the ride, emotion overtook any sense of reason I am born with. I thought him dangerous because he gave no response. I decided he was negating my existence and that was scary. I would call this the power of nothing.

My cab driver midday last Wednesday was a battery without an off switch. I think I interrupted his discourse by getting into his car. During this 20-minute monologue, emotion took over any sense of humanity I am born with. I thought him annoying because he did not interact. I decided he was negating my existence and that was insulting. I would call this the power of something.

I would not enjoy driving a cab. It must be exhausting.

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About Mrs. Fitz

Hello! I'm Michele Fitzpatrick, a Chicago writer. Like our town, a work in progress. As a journalist, teacher and writing coach I think all of us live our stories and sharing them creates moments that remind us we're connected. And that is enough.
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