She had to take a Lyft home from work and though her driver has been very talkative, he thankfully keeps the conversation light and uncontroversial. He talks about the history of the Manhattan Bridge, the owl that has recently escaped from Central Park Zoo, and the necessary danger of space heaters. She is nearly home when the conversation pauses as he looks into the rearview mirror and catches her eye. He asks her what she thinks of his beard.
She is surprised by the question, but intrigued. It is a question that almost crosses lines, but then again, none at all. Just a simple question between two people. She looks at his reflection and responds that it looks nice and that it was probably nice to have in the cold weather. This is what she says, regardless of what she thinks, because she makes a point of being agreeable in another person’s vehicle.
His eyes are back on the road now and he says, as if he had been rehearsing all night in his head, “I am on a bit of a spiritual journey and part of that requires this beard. We keep a beard because it has 13 points of mercy. Do you understand?” They are pulling up to her home now and even though she would like to understand perhaps at another time, she is tired and needs to go to the bathroom and wants to get out of the car. So she nods yes even though she has no idea what he means by 13 points of mercy.
As she exits she says it has been nice talking with you, and as she unlocks her front door she tries to imagine a beard that only touches the face in 13 places. Like the plastic loom she learned to make pot holders on as a child, she thinks of facial hairs woven across these points, creating a textile over the face. She does not know what this has to do with mercy, but she gives the driver five stars and stops wondering now that she is home.
Leave a comment