I arrived back in Oakland, after months away, back to a disaster of an election result and got into my cab. A forty-something year old white guy was the driver; he was wearing a hawaiian shirt. His name is Norbert. He saw my bag and asked if I had just gotten back from somewhere, and I told him I had been on a long trip abroad.
"I am so sorry you had to come back to this," he said, shaking his head.
"But," he continued. "I got married last week. Do you want to hear about it?" Oh, I did. And he told me everything about his wedding. He got married at the zoo. His wife wore a pink dress.
I thanked him when I got out of the cab, for that piece of decency.
A few days later I told this story to a friend on the phone, and just started crying. In the middle of the sidewalk, I just couldn't stop, I couldn't even finish the sentence.