Varying Degrees of Coldness

My transportation bill for the week thus far racks up to $85, an enormous sum considering that bus rides cost approximately 40 cents and taxi fares range from $2-5. But I've been all over this city--and back again--to cover doggy makeovers, construction sites, and everything in-between. Considering this, when I once again hailed a cab early this morning to head out to a neighborhood on the other side of the city where the rich folks live, I was tired, stressed, and not in the mood for another taxi-driver conversation, especially with this one, who was putting my life in danger by staring at me in the rear view mirror rather than the road. But he failed to pick up on that vibe--or more likely, didn't care--and, after ascertaining that I had a boyfriend, he launched into a dialogue about how Latin men (specifically Costa Rican men) are the most faithful men in the world. Not only this, but they are the best in bed, as he would be willing to prove to me if I wanted.

When I refused his offer, another dialogue commenced, this one complaining about how "cold" American women like myself are. "I tell you what type of lovers we are and offer to show you, and you don't even care," he said. "You are so cold!"

An hour later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of a car driven by a real estate agent I had just taken photos of for a story. She was a very gracious Tica woman and was going out of her way to help me by driving me to shoot a home for a different and unrelated assignment, thus saving me another unattractive taxi fare and conversation. Morning traffic in San Jose is insane, and when we stopped behind a long line of cars at a traffic light, a street vendor approached the car. Vendors that stand in the middle of the street and attempt to sell products to drivers are common here, but some make a little more of an impression than others. The man crouched down and stared in my window for a few seconds before leaning forward and kissing the glass, a prolonged and very wet kiss that left the full print of his lips on my window.

I was feeling a little awkward at that moment, being that I was in a complete stranger's car--a car that now had a detailed print of a set of lips on the window. He probably thought that my lack of response was exceedingly cold, and if so, he would be as misinformed as the taxi driver. And, in my opinion, both need to redefine their definition of coldness.