A woman of about 60 walked towards me, wearing dirty jeans and a dirty shirt, with a drink in her hands. I'm thinking: "Here we go, another live one." She called for the cab and she'd be ready to go in a minute. Another woman of similar age and cleanliness walked up to me and hugged me, saying, "George, it's good to see you again." There are two of these morons, how nice. I said I'm not George. She introduced me to her friend, calling me George again. "Nice to meet you," I said to the woman I had already met, "I'm not George."
The woman who hugged me had deep red gashes in her cheeks. She explained that her husband had beaten her and she is divorcing him. "I put that bastard through law school!" she yelled.
The woman who called for the cab gathered up some debris that was obviously trash, put everything into a white, plastic garbage bag, and got in the back of the cab. We headed for the Amtrak station downtown, which would be a $28 ride or so.
She told me she had just been let out of jail after getting a DUI, and it was in jail that she had met the other woman. To commiserate their fate, and celebrate being released, they spent the last three days drinking. She claims to have been at a party, drinking heavily, when she decided to go to another party. Being too drunk to drive, she asked a young man -- who seemed sober -- to drive her. So they went together to another house. This party was very rowdy, and after a couple of hours the police showed up (she didn't say if this was in San Diego).
Her ride took off running, and as far as she knows, he got away. She doesn't know why he ran, but speculated he had outstanding warrants. She waited for the cops to cool things down, then got in the guy's truck to drive home. She got a few miles before getting pulled over for DUI. The rest is history.
We arrived at the Santa Fe Depot, and she thanked me and gave me a $10 tip on top of the good fare.
The day after I met the two women, I was belled to an Albertson's grocery store. There I picked up a disheveled man, about 30, with a bag of booze. He was a little off, and I thought he might have mental problems. He gave me his address, and I noticed it was next door to the house where I'd picked up the weird woman the day before.
He chatted non-stop the whole way, saying that he is an alcoholic and lives off an allowance from his father, who is an attorney. He lives next door to them in one of their many houses. He also said his parents are getting a divorce, and that he was disappointed at that.
- Me: Why?
Him: Why am I disappointed?
Me: No, why are they getting divorced?
Him: I'm not sure.