Living in the 'burbs

I made my first scene in front of the neighbors last night.

The grandpa to my favorite neighbors, known to many of you as, "The Pakistani Kids" showed up at my front door with a cab driver last night. Grandpa wasn't able to find the family at the airport so he took a cab. Simple solution right? Wrong. Grandpa made a few mistakes.

1. He didn't have a street name, only an address number and city.
2. He got into a Chicago Cab, which tried charging him $160.
3. He didn't have a cell phone or emergency contact number.

The family was still at the airport, frantically looking for him, calling the police, ect.

Anyway, I invited Grandpa in while we waited for the family to come home. I told him that we could call the airline and international terminal information booth to let the family know. He agreed, but the Cab driver had a problem with it. Grandpa still had to pay him.

Grandpa did have enough to pay it, but I wasn't about to let him give what was probably the majority of his cash to the driver. I demanded that the driver justify why he was charging him $160 when the standard fare is $35. The driver then showed me the placard in the cab that states that a City cab will charge a full fare and a half. The meter read $101.00.

"How could you accept him as a passenger instead of directing him to a suburban cab that would have charged him $35? What kind of person does that? You see that he's an older man, coming from another country! And you knew what situation he was in!" At this point I was yelling. See, the cab driver was African, and anyone that is here as an immigrant can understand how scary it can be for our relatives and us when they travel here and plans don't work out as expected. I once spent 12 hours at the International Terminal fighting with customs officers because they wouldn't release my pregnant cousin.

The driver calmly explained that the fare would have been close to $35 had he not spent the past hour driving him to each and every street in Aurora that had the number 3121 in the address. He declared the he had done Grandpa a great favor by finding where he was supposed to go under such circumstances. I asked Grandpa if it was true and he said yes. The cab driver was telling the truth.

At that point, our nosy neighbor Ed, who usually stands in his garage with the lights turned off when he's eavesdropping, was standing in his driveway, lights turned on, arms across his chest. Now let me tell you a little bit about Ed. He's the kind of guy who seems like he can't decide if he likes Brian or not. Brian is the best neighbor a guy could hope to have. He has every tool and machine known to man; he can fix just about anything, and is happy to help anyone fix their stuff; and he is a diligent yard guy. and he shovels snow for the single mom across the street. But it is our impression that in Ed's eyes, Brian has a small flaw. He married outside of his race and is very friendly with the Pakistanis across the street. Who also happen to be Muslim, who also happen to not obsess over their lawn. Ed and his wife completely ignore the family. One day, before they knew about the relationship we have with the kids, in a conversation with us, they called the youngest one (who was only 3 at the time) a "little son of a ....".

What kind of a person calls a toddler a cuss word?

But I digress, I convinced the driver to lower the fare and asked him for a receipt with all his info in case the family wanted to investigate or whatever. Right when we were done, a guy drives up to the family's house looking for Grandpa. He also freaked out when he heard about the fare and the scene played it self out all over again, only that he was even madder than me, and he was on the phone with the family giving them a play-by-play. In the mean time, Brian drives up to the racket we are making in the drive way and starts to freak out, "What are you doing in my driveway? This is my driveway, what's going on here?"

So the family's friend and the cab driver are duking it out, I'm yelling at Brian to calm down and explaining the situation, poor Grandpa is standing on the lawn shivering, and Ed is enjoying the show.

Everything worked out in the end. Grandpa went home with the family friend to wait for the family to come home. The cab driver got paid. The family didn't mind the fare, and Ed got his entertainment for the night and a good story to tell his wife.