Tonight's microbus was a sight to see. As I entered, I was greeted with a phrase that somewhat resembled "you're going to enjoy the ride." Once the 18 person minivan filled up, we screeched out into the street. The driver really epitomized the idea of a lead foot, and he used that lead foot for the brakes as well as the gas. As we whipped around turns, I felt like I was with a bunch of my friends playing jello, only these people were just random people trying to get to wherever they needed to be at midnight on a Friday.
I'm pretty sure everyone in the microbus enjoyed the ride. The microbus consisted of a family in the first two rows, the couple in the row in front of me, the other Matt, and the two guys next to me. On my right was a well-dressed guy in his thirties and on my left, a sixty-year-old man missing his bottom teeth. The older man started talking to me about cooking chicken. He kept repeating, عيز فراخ المطبخ, directly translated: "Do you want the kitchen's chicken." After a couple repetitions, I finally realized he was asking me if I wanted to play chicken. (He's 60, I'm 20...)
I told him that I had to pass, but I tried to make conversation by remarking on the craziness of the driver. In complete seriousness, the old man explained that the driver wasn't crazy at all; he just wanted to get to our destination faster.
