Two more very short stories

 Mental health 

B and C moved into the rental downstairs in September.  They had moved back from Europe to be close to large extended families in Canada.  C dropped and picked B up from work while he worked from home.  Good looking, young, bonded and dutiful they cooked every evening and visited family on weekends. C always had a warm smile for her but A was bland faced.  They turned down her invitations for tea and dinner.  She left for UK not getting to know them.  At noon one day she got a call from B’s mother who said C had walked in front of a moving train. Could B cancel her rental?  

Two short short stories!

 The not so humble moth! 

Tara never thought of moths, let alone fear them.  However, she was soon to enter their world! She was on a camping trip in Lithuania.  There was a nip in the air and she had packed her favourite and expensive light cashmere sweaters.  After an exhausting day of hikes and kayaking in her gorgeous surroundings she woke up well rested ready for another day in the gorgeous outdoors.  As she donned her folded cashmere sweater she discovered holes in them.  Who knew moths loved them as much as she did.  But while she wore them they ate them.  She let out a screech that echoed in the wilderness waking up all the living.  Google revealed the havoc had been wreaked by an unusual suspect - the moth.  Tara was unceremoniously thrust into a whole new world of moth protection bags, dehumidifiers and moth balls of course! So much for her earlier beliefs about the not so humble moths!  

The Rolex whisperer

I learn something from every Uber driver I ride with.  I usually query them about the food staples of their countries of origin.  I also ask after their families and whether they visited the old country.  This day my driver was a handsome young Bangladeshi born and raised in UK, male.  Switching gears I asked him about his hobbies.  He proudly declared he loved watches and was the proud owner of a Rolex.  Well did he wear it, I asked, thinking he might be risking his life wearing one in some parts of London.  Only for occasions with close family around, he said. Did he keep it home?  I asked.  No, safely, in a locker at 30 BP per month he said.  Then he told me something I did not know.  You cannot walk into a store and buy a Rolex, you are waitlisted.  They can also refuse to sell one to you if they think your reputation will sully their brand!  I wondered how a human rights complaint against the Rolex store which will not sell you one will hold up before the tribunal.  Who knew an Uber ride would deliver such “rich” information!

A spicy start to my Boston visit!

My sister was visiting Boston, all the way from Dubai for her son’s graduation with an MBA from MIT.  Of course I had to visit her. Since my trip was a last minute decision, I had to get me a burner phone, to appease my daiughter, and complete a number of tasks ahead of my trip, since I was London bound after I returned.   

Finally on Saturday, May 17, 2025, I boarded my flight to Boston.  I had woken up at 4:30 am and showered, made myself coffee in a takeaway cup and driven to the airport.  I used Park n fly instead of Ubering.  My flight was at 8:15 and I thought I had checked in a comfortable 2 hours before my flight.  However, the lines were long both at security and US immigration - which happens in Toronto- and so it was touch and go.  I made it to the gate just 10 minutes before takeoff.  Being the Canadian long weekend, lots of people were travelling to all destinations and, it appeared, a good chunk to the US.  I had miscalculated the rush to the US since road border crossings have greatly reduced due to the tariff feud between the two countries.  Also they may not have planned for this surge on this particular day?  

I landed in Boston at 9:55 AM.  I followed the signs for the Ride App.  I requested an Uber.  I was not surprised to find Ride Apps being championed with designated spots for drivers to wait for their fares.  After all, this was Boston! The app first indicated #22 as the spot where I could find my driver.  On the phone the Uber App said my driver was on their way initially and then that they had arrived . So I looked around and not seeing the car texted to ask them where they were.  They said #22.  I turned to see #22 and a shiny white car packed there.  Did I check the make and model?  Did I check the license plate? No to both! I just asssumed the driver had indicated she had arrived and was already parked there.  I was soon to learn that Uber drivers in Boston are mostly Hispanic, with no English.  When I headed towards the car the driver immediately opened the boot as if they were expecting me.  I put my bag in and settled down comfortably in the car.  It occurred to me the driver looked less “pretty” than in the picture on the Apo.  In fact he was an average looking middle aged man! I immediately wondered if he was the driver associated with the car or if he was subbing for his pretty wife.  Goes to show how the mind will go to absurd places to justify its decision to get into the wrong car!  About 5 minutes, he perhaps realized I was not as young or as pretty as the picture of the fare that popped up on his phone?! What can I say, he was smarter than me?!  He somehow dredged up enough English to point to his phone and ask me if I was “Ravneet”.  In that moment I too realized he had picked up the wrong fare.  I am sure he uttered a few choice curses and called me choice names under his breath!  I immediately texted my driver who was still waiting at the designated #22 spot.  I was dinged with an USD 8 waiting fee!  At least not twice the fare! She was indeed a beautiful Latin American woman whose picture had been on the app.  So my trip to Boston started with some drama adding spice to my trip! 

A close encounter of a “cool” kind!

 Yesterday, I had an interesting meeting with a young man. In the past, I would’ve blogged about it right away. However, I was too busy to do that. As I was driving to work, I decided to dictate my thoughts so I would have them stored somewhere.

When I was driving two days ago, I noticed a red sign pop up on my dashboard.  I wasn't sure if I could connect it to something specific, as I didn’t know what the alert truly meant. Obviously, I should have checked the car manual, but I didn't. Instead, I parked the car and decided to use my other vehicle, avoiding the risk of figuring it out on my own. Too lazy to look up the owner’s manual, I called CAA. They promptly informed me that they did not have mechanics on call and that if there was an issue with my car, it would have to be towed to the nearest service location or to a preferred mechanic.

My neighbor, who owns an auto repair shop, has always been very kind and accommodating. He has driven my car to his shop, checked it out, and handled any fixes needed. Since I have appreciated the “Cadillac” service he has offered me, I told CAA to tow my car to my neighbor’s shop and not to their service centre.  

About 15 minutes later, young man called from an unknown number that appeared to be long-distance, so I didn't pick up. Soon after, CAA called to inform me that the tow truck was waiting outside. 

When I went out, I met the young tow truck driver, who seemed to be a mix of Chinese and Central Asian.  His long distance phone number had popped up with a Muslim name. He was very handsome, tall, and friendly. He asked if I needed the car towed. I said I didn't think I have a problem driving it, but I just needed something checked out. I asked if he would please oblige, and so he opened the hood of the car as I gave instructions. I did not think I had a problem driving the car. I just needed something checked out, and I asked if he would please oblige. He opened the front of the car, and lo and behold the lip of the coolant chamber had the same sign that had popped up. rd.

He proceeded to open the with some difficulty since it was a screw top. We noticed the liquid was, in fact, low. I rushed to pour some coolant I had on my shelf, but he stopped me. He observed, "You notice the car's coolant is orange, and what you have in this bottle is green. There’s no indication that it’s suitable for this car. I would advise you to ensure it is the right one. You'll need to buy it at a store or online on Amazon."

He googled the correct liquid for my car's make and told me what to look for. Afterward, he gave me a tutorial on how washer fluid should be replenished and even provided an advanced tutorial on changing the oil and filter in the car, tasks I obviously won’t undertake myself. Nonetheless, I was very grateful for the lessons, which alleviated some of my anxiety about basic car maintenance.

By the end of this, I was exceedingly grateful to CAA for their service, where someone actually comes to your home for a very small annual fee. I was also grateful that the people they recruit or have as subcontractors are of such high caliber, committed to providing amazing service. Just two weeks prior, I had a flat tire. The technician not only removed the nail but also patched the gaping hole it left.

Lastly, I realized there is a time for everything.  If I had just opened up the hood and proceeded to pour the coolant I had, upon checking the manual, I may have caused some harm.  I appreciated the lessons this young man gave me to boost my confidence in car ownership.