Old #383

Our friend "D" gave us his cabdriver. At the time, "D" was working out of state a lot and used to fly home for weekends. To get back to LAX in a timely fashion, he needed what was essentially his own driver. A guy he could call the night before or whatever and guy'd be there. Thus Frank.

Frank is "#383 on his cab; #1 in your heart." He and Richie are both New Yorkers (instant admiration society) and many are the interesting discussions we have on the way to LAX. But: only TO LAX. Frank's license doesn't cover picking people up; only getting them there.

It's a game to us - spotting Frank driving around here. Honks and waves! But today, intent on getting in and back out of Trader Joe's, we didn't pay any attention to the cab we parked next to in the lot.

I was moodily staring at the cheeses when Richie appeared at my elbow. "It's Frank!" and said, "and his wife!" "Where?" I asked, all ears. "Come with me..."

Frank, a mountain of a man, immediately grabbed me in a big hug and kissed my cheek. "Lila, Lila," he bellowed, "Come meet Nina!" She was about a third as big as he is and has long red hair. They were as cordial as could be and now we can brag to "D" that we've met Frank's wife!