TAXI GIRL
Chapter Eight
Tania went to work on Monday. She kept her head down and her chin tucked into the stretched-out neck of her Fair Isle Shetland sweater. Only one of her fares made a comment.
“What does the other guy look like?” he asked.
“Whaddya mean?”
“Uh . . . never mind,” responded the man.
After work, Tania headed over to her acting class at St. Paul’s Church. She entered the basement, joined the group and caught Tommy giving her chin a sideways glance.
“Hey, you should see the other guy,” said Tania.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
“Remember me?” he asked. “Dan?”
Tania squinted and peered at his face.
“Oh . . . Dan! That Dan!”
“Yeah, that Dan.”
“I thought you were in school?”
“I was, but I had a nervous breakdown.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you.”
“I didn’t know you were into acting.”
“I didn’t either. Hey, I need someone, preferably a female, to do a skit with me. Interested?”
After Tommy finished his scene, Lee Enright called out from the front row.
“Who’s next?”
“I am,” answered Dan.
With a cowboy hat on his head and a ukulele under his arm, Dan dragged a three-foot-long travel trunk onto the performance space. He leaned the ukulele up against the trunk, reached in his pockets, pulled out three pink Spaldeen balls and juggled them. Then he sat down on the trunk, strummed the ukulele and sang.
“When I’m calling you
Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo
Will you answer too
Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo
You’ll belong to me
Ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee
I’ll belong to you
Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.”
The trunk shook; Dan sang,
“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.”
The trunk rocked back and forth. Dan continued singing.
“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.”
Banging came from inside the trunk. Dan got up, opened the latches and lifted the lid. He looked inside and sang.
“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.”
Tania propped herself up, curled her fingers over the front lip of the trunk’s lower box, gazed up at Dan and responded,
“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.”
The pair froze; end of scene.
“That was interesting, Dan,” said Paul Enright. “Nice job, Tania. Yes, that was very interesting.”
When class was over, Dan approached Tania.
“Thanks for helping me out,” he said. “Can I buy you dinner? There’s a diner on North Avenue.”
“Sonny’s?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d rather not go there,” said Tania. “I had a bad experience at Sonny’s.”
“The three P’s?”
“What?”
“Puking, peeing and pooping all at the same time.”
“No, rejection, dejection and obsession.”
“Oh, I’ve had that.”
The pair left St. Paul’s; Dan rolled the trunk along the sidewalk on a dolly. They walked east on Eugenie.
“No Corvette?” asked Tania.
“No, I sold it.”
“Which came first—selling the car or having a nervous breakdown?”
Dan stopped in his tracks.
“Outta the blue, I get a phone call that turns my world upside down. I couldn’t handle it; I had a nervous breakdown. I needed money; I sold the car.”
“What do you want to do now?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
They turned north onto Wells.
“You haven’t had a vasectomy, have you?”
“No, why?”
“I was just wondering.”
“That’s funny; I was just wondering if we were gonna have sex.”
Tania shook her head.
“Not tonight; maybe tomorrow . . . maybe never.”
“I can wait,” said Dan. He pulled open the glass door of the restaurant on the ground level of the Lincoln Park Hotel. Tania walked inside and turned to him.
“When did you get so interesting?”
Dan parked the dolly by the cash register. The hostess showed the couple to a booth. Tania sat down and picked up her menu.
“Do you have a job?” she asked.
“No. I’m thinking of starting a yogurt business.”
“What kind of yogurt business?”
“I thought I’d get an ice cream cart, park it on a corner downtown and sell sour milk to passersby.”
“A bicycle cart?”
“Yeah, summer’s coming. I wanna work outside.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And I like yogurt.”
“You could sell raisins and nuts too; a canopy would be nice.”
“Do you want to do it with me?”
“I’d have to think about that,” said Tania. “By the way, do you have enough money to pay for dinner? I’m really hungry.”
“Yeah, I have enough.”
A waitress came for their order.
Tania said, “I’ll have a cheddar and tomato omelet with potatoes but no bread and a house salad with oil and vinegar on the side and a beef patty without a bun.” She lifted her eyes from her menu and asked Dan, “Do you want to split a waffle?”
“Sure.”
Tania handed her menu to the waitress.
“And a Belgian waffle.”
Dan gave his order, and the waitress left the table.
“I’ve been too depressed to eat, but I seem to be getting over it,” said Tania.
Dan nodded his head.
“So it seems.”
“Will there be bells on the handlebars?” she asked.
After the pair finished eating, they made their way to the exit. Dan took hold of the dolly with the trunk on it.
“Do you want to see where I live?” he asked.
“Where do you live?” asked Tania.
“Upstairs.”
Tania opened the door leading to the street.
“I can wait.”
The pair walked to Tania’s apartment. As they came up Wisconsin and turned onto Sedgwick, Tania spotted Billy Miller getting out of a cab.
“Oh shit,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dan.
“I just saw someone I don’t want to see.”
Tania backed into a tree.
“Would you mind kissing me until he goes inside?”
Dan pressed Tania against the tree and kissed her.
“Mmmm,” she murmured. She kissed him back.
They kissed each other. Tania peeked over Dan’s shoulder.
“Oh shit, he’s coming this way.” She stuck her head inside Dan’s jacket.
“Is that you, Tania?” called out Miller. He came closer.
She pulled her head up.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” said Billy. “What happened to your chin?”
“I tripped on a sidewalk. The stitches come out Saturday. I probably won’t even have a scar.”
“Great,” said Miller. “I need you to do The Bear.”
“What?”
“Things didn’t work out with you-know-who. She got drunk and called the men on the board a bunch of faggots and the two women homo hags. Then she said, ‘Oh yeah, Charlie showed me his dick, and it’s a teeny weenie.’”
“I didn’t think it was that small,” said Tania. “By the way, this is Dan; we’re in the same acting class. He’s into surrealistic comedy.”
“Nice to meet you, Dan; I’m Billy Miller. Tania works at my theater. Wait a minute.” He turned to Tania. “Do you still work at my theater?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, she used to work at my theater, and she did these great workshops with kids. Are you her boyfriend? If you are, you’re a really lucky guy.”
“Stop it, Billy,” said Tania.
“Well, will you do The Bear?” asked Miller.
“I’d have to think about that. I know it’s supposed to be a comedy, but I didn’t think it was very funny.”
Dan walked Tania home.
“I can’t do The Bear,” she said. “I’m not Elena Popova. I’m the girl in the trunk. I’m the girl in the trunk doing some weird scene with a guy who wants to sell yogurt from a bicycle cart.”
Dan went to kiss her; she kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks for showing me who I am.”
When she got upstairs, Tania called Billy.
“I can’t do it; it’s not who I am.”
“I know.”
“I’m an outsider trying to be an insider, and it never works out.”
“I think I’m going to New Mexico,” said Miller.
“What for?”
“There’s a job at a school in Portales; I’m gonna check it out.”
“Where’s Portales?”
“I don’t know; that’s why I’m going there.”
“Can I come over? Can we watch a Laurel and Hardy movie?”
“Sure. I didn’t know you liked Laurel and Hardy.”
“You never asked, and I didn’t know you had a projector.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Celine told me.”
“You’re the lady from the park with the black string on her chin?”
“That I am.”
“I’ll set up the projector.”
“I’ll wear my bathrobe.”
Tania came up the stairs to Billy’s apartment. His door was open. She smelled popcorn and heard it popping. Billy came out of the kitchen with a bowlful. He was wearing his bathrobe. They sat down on soft chairs set up on either side of his Eumig projector. Billy set the popcorn on the floor between them. He simultaneously started the film and his Sony cassette player. Tania turned to him.
“I wish you hadn’t had a vasectomy.”
“I know.”
