Sociology in Taxi

  One night, a blond girl covered her face and cried when she got into the car. I asked her where to go, and she asked me: “Where can I go? Where is the future?” It turned out that she and her boyfriend broke up that night, she couldn’t bear it, she felt hopeless. I said fiercely: “What future? The future of each of us is set, and that is the grave.” She was taken aback by what I said, and sadly said: “Then life is meaningless. Is it?” I said, “Of course it makes sense, because we have the present. Or, the people who have the present have the future.
  Having driven taxis in Australia for many years, many passengers poured out their hearts to me. At first, I thought I must have a special charm that would be tempting to open up, until I met him.
  He was in his early 20s, filthy, with a deep depression on his face. I stopped when the two taxis in front whizzed past and ignored him.
  We chatted in the car. He said he had come from the country to find friends in Marrickville in the inner west. I asked, “Which way is your friend’s house? Does your friend know you’re coming?” He said he didn’t know where his friend’s house was, and his friend didn’t know he was coming, and he didn’t have a friend’s phone number. It seemed that this trip would be troublesome, but I had no choice but to drive over there first.
  At this moment, he sighed and said quietly: “I actually just want to find someone who is irrelevant to talk nonsense.”
  I have never heard of this reason. So, I immediately came to the interest. I always have a respect for people who are different.
  ”My family and friends get together to talk about career and money. It’s too heavy. People need to talk nonsense, nonsense, talk to each other, and laugh hard. Then one night passes, and the next day can be A fresh guy.”
  ”So, I’d rather have no friends to talk to than someone I’m not related to.” He was less somber. In the end I dropped him at a small intersection, I reckon he won’t find a friend, but he will find someone in Sydney far from home who can talk nonsense, nonsense.
  Another night, passing Broadway, I saw a tall, thin young man waiting on a bus stop. When my car was about to pass him, he suddenly stretched out his hand and I slammed the brakes to stop the car. He took two steps forward and opened the rear door. I found him a little lame.
  He said a place name and stopped talking. After a while, he sighed. I asked, “Is it tiring from work?” He took a long sigh before saying, “I got bone cancer when I was very young. I am 22 years old this year. One of my femurs has been completely eroded. I have to go to the hospital for surgery tomorrow.” I was shocked to hear that, no wonder he was a little lame. I didn’t know how to comfort him, so I said some polite nonsense, and there was really nothing I could do about it.
  After he got out of the car, looking at his long and thin figure dragged by the street lights, I felt sorry for him, not because of his inherent misfortune, but because of his loneliness at the moment. It is another misfortune in life to return alone at night on the eve of the operation. Does he have no friends? No relatives? Why can only spit sadness to a taxi driver who met by chance?
  This reminds me of another thing. Five or six years ago, I was cleaning a residential building in the city center. One morning, Qiao Ai, the female security guard of the building, said to me mysteriously: “Someone committed suicide by jumping off the building at 4 in the morning, Debbie knows, go and see her.”
  Debbie is the property manager of the building and has a good relationship with me. . Pushing the door open, Debbie sat tearfully by the window, motioned for me to sit down, and rumbled, “I killed him. He’s an Air Force officer, and we just nodded. At two o’clock in the morning, I was arguing with my boyfriend on the phone. Suddenly someone knocked on the door. I asked who it was, and he answered. He said he wanted to chat with me. , I couldn’t take care of myself.’ He said ‘I’m sorry’ and left. At 4 in the morning, I was still arguing with my boyfriend on the phone, and suddenly had a strong ominous premonition. At this time, I saw a The figure fell from upstairs, past my window. I screamed into the phone…” She shuddered and had to stop, and then she said, “It’s all my fault, if I opened the door and let him in, he I won’t jump off the building.”
  The topic of jumping off the building ended forever when I left Debbie’s room, and no one mentioned the officer again.
  It seems that Australians are lonelier than Chinese, and they would rather talk to strangers, such as lawyers, psychiatrists or taxi drivers, than to share with relatives and friends about many things. And we Chinese, regardless of love or resentment, family members have an inescapable responsibility to each other. No matter how bad or hopeless the situation is, there is always a way out and there is always a bowl of rice to eat.
  If you say which mode of interpersonal communication is better, it actually depends on each person’s personality and situation. I just don’t know if there is a more suitable relationship model between people between loneliness and excessive intimacy.