So I'm standing in the nasty waiting for the 280 Express bus when this car pulls into the service station next to the bus stop. The window rolls down and a young Arabic guy asks me what time the 280 EX is due. I tell him and then the driver, who appears to be his mom in a headwrap, says to me, "Why don't you get inside? Don't wait out in the snow."
I hesistated for a second. C'mon, fess up, you would have, too! I don't know these people from Adam. They could whisk me away to a mosque somewhere and I would never be heard from again. But my gut, which is usually pretty reliable says, "Trust them."
Well, I'm glad I did because they were the nicest folks you'd ever want to meet. The son, Ahmed, who appeared to be in his early 20s, works in the financial industry. While he was telling me this, his mom, beaming with pride, told me that he got his MBA from Fordham. She herself is a pharmaceutical chemist who turned down a high-paying job in NYC because she didn't want to commute. Smart woman!
In all my years commuting, I don't remember anything like this ever happening, whether it was at the train station in Montclair or the bus stop in Verona. God forbid, some rich yuppie would offer me shelter from the storm. I'd have a better chance of winning the lottery.
Just shows to go ya, you can't judge a book.
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