Book Expo cab ride

Randa Jarrar, who was in town for Book Expo last week, recalls a cab ride to Union Square:

CAB-DRIVER: …This thing has been crazy, I been pickin up people all weekend, I’ve had publishers and agents in my car.
ME: I bet.
CAB-DRIVER: That guy that just got out was a publisher.
ME: I should have begged him to publish my book.
CAB-DRIVER: Oh, you ain’t published?
ME: No. I mean, not yet.
CAB-DRIVER: Yeah, I hear it’s tough.
(Silence for several minutes.)
CAB-DRIVER: What kinda writing do you do?
ME: Fiction.
CAB-DRIVER: What kinda fiction?
ME: I wrote a novel about a crazy family.
CAB-DRIVER: All families are crazy, right?
ME: Exactly.
(long slience)
CAB-DRIVER: Where you from?
(Voice over: I was reminded of my dad, who told cab drivers he was “Jordanian” instead of Palestinian.)
ME: I’m Arab American.
(Cab driver turns around and looks at me)
CAB-DRIVER: You don’t look Arab.
ME: I was just at an Arab American writers conference, and a lot of chicks looked like me.
CAB-DRIVER: Yeah? (he cranes his neck again, this time looks at my boobs.)

Jarrar also reveals that writer Patricia Highsmith was one sexy mama, pet snails or no pet snails.


Newsletter

You might want to subscribe to my free Substack newsletter, Ancestor Trouble, if the name makes intuitive sense to you.