Father Hannah
Thursday
5:30am:
I’m driving predawn through well-to-do Pac Heights in what promises (and smells) to be a beautiful day ahead when,
“Cha-ching! — 2395 Sacramento. Hannah. Dispatch.” comes over the Cabulous phone.
I ‘Accept’.
It’s only two blocks away and I’m very much happy to.
It’s been a quiet morning so far.
I get to Sac & Webster fast and just start to scan for street numbers before spotting a tall, slim figure in a khaki skirt pop out between some parked cars from the dark sidewalk up ahead, Hannah.
A late 20-something, semi-pretty/semi-geeky, blonde Hannah gets in back and with a jittery yawn attempts to eke out a destination,
“Dav-is, uh, no. Dave, uh…”
“UPMC — Davies Campus,” I interject to save her — clipboard in hand.
“Yes! Thank you! I just got beeped for the third time in 24 hours. I’m a chaplain and need to go sit by someone’s bed,” Hannah comes back surprised, and grateful for the help.
She was coming out from the Pac Heights campus of the CPMC hospital system and it seemed obvious from “Dav” where she was going. Tho, this is very unusual at this time of morning.
Wait!
“Sit by someone’s bed?”
A bemoaned, “Third beep in 24 hours”?
Doh!
No, guess it’s priests who do last rights, not chaplains.
Still, seems like a harsh way to wake up. And it seems like that’s what she’s thinking, too.
But Hannah soon gets past the grog and starts-in all talkative commenting on SF’s recent (and unusual) East Coast-ish humid weather,
“I know it well. I’m pursuing my Master’s at a school in Connecticut.”
“Oh? Which school?”
“Yale.”
Whoa.
Anyway, I try to put a positive spin on the fact that she obviously seems annoyed at getting beeped so much and the consequent lack of sleep.
“Well, I suspect all your clients want is someone to sit there and listen. Ought to be somewhat low maintenance, yes?”
“Yes! That’s true,” Hannah beams back, again surprised at my insight.
She continues,
“You know, our jobs are somewhat alike. I have read about how people feel very open in taxis, talking about their feelings. The small enclosed space..”
As my coffee’s kicked-in, and she has had none, I clumsily cut her off interjecting,
“Yes! Finding yourself trapped in a speeding metal box with someone you’ll likely never see again (well, usually never), coupled with a low need to impress the blue collar driver; it really IS the perfect storm for people to open up… AND THEY DO.”
Hannah expounds, “And the lack of eye contact; VERY important.”
Again I interject, “True… And I DO have a good excuse for not making eye contact.”
We both laugh.
I go on to explain the Paratransit system in San Fran and how I very much appreciate that there is a social service aspect to my job; that I too am glad to help out people in need.
Hannah is genuinely exuberant to hear the city has a subsidized transportation program for the old and infirm and glows-on some more at the, um, revelation:)
Good saint.
I get off-topic, adding that one selfish perk for me is that if I fuck up a ride, my boss will cease to exist sometime in the next 5 to 15 minutes and I can just brush it off. I assume this is not the case with her.
But, Hannah gushes and does relate, stating that when she fucks up (tho that’s not quite how she phrased it), she just leaves the room and lets the doctors take over.
I don’t pursue what constitutes a “fuck up” in her department.
Hmmm.
So, we arrive at CPMC — Davies at the edge of the Castro and Hannah starts fumbling through her purse for payment. She eventually hands me up a voucher for Citizen’s Cab.
This catches me by surprise (aside from the fact that she didn’t sign it).
I usually only see these from Kink.com, when taking talent to the airport.
I start to laugh internally and just start to relay the irony, but stop, catching myself…
Ah, what the hell,
“Wow. You surprised me. I usual only get vouchers from Kink.com. You know, the bondage porn site?”
(Crickets)
I expound,
“Guess Citizen’s vouchers are all about bondage porn and chaplains.”
And with this Hannah busts out all giddy,
“Oh!! That’s fantastic! Hah, hah, hah! I am SO glad to know that! I am going to just HAVE to tell my friends!”
I have Hannah sign the voucher and she adds 2 bucks to the $9.55 fare and exits the cab in her bland-colored flats, scurrying off to service.
God be with you, Hannah.
—
Photo by Alex SacK
Check out Alex’s Book 1 — San Francisco TAXI: A 1st Week in the ZEN Life…
& Book 2 San Francisco TAXI: Life in the Merge Lane…
And Follow on Facebook and Twitter for your non-practicing Buddhist one-offs.
