Woman #3 Makes Me Drive

Believe it or not, I am licensed to drive by the State of Oklahoma.

I’ve been licensed since I was 16 – for 25 years. My license still says I weigh 143 pounds, but that was my weight when I was 16. They always ask me if I want to change it, and I decline. I don’t need to do any extra paperwork.

I was ready to let this privilege just expire and fall away last summer. I was down on life and I didn’t have a car. Plus, I had no money to pay for the renewal.

It was #3 who said it was silly not to renew my license. She drove me to the tag agency and paid the $15 fee for me.

As you might have read in my posting, Woman #1 Was The First, when I tweet about these women I’ve known who are so important to me, I use numbers instead of their names. The reason is that the number provides a useful bit of information – the order – when their names are of no useful value (to you).

Plus, I thought it was cute and I’m all about being cute. If any of them read this, I hope they’re not offended. Numbers are very important to me. I don’t use them to dehumanize these fine people.

#3 found my MySpace page (no longer there) and liked my art and especially liked a scan of the bottom of my foot I had posted. We started trading messages and became friends.

#3 is a strong believer in God and has said that she got the feeling that she was supposed to get to know me. When she found out I needed some help, she was moved to help me, a practical stranger.

I was living in Texas at the time, looking for a job in the Dallas area. It wasn’t happening. #3 invited me to visit in June of 2008 and I never went back. I lived with her for about 15 months until my own behavior made it necessary for me to leave and eventually move into the shelter where I am now.

I could tell you that #3 is very attractive and the answer to many prayers asking for a woman who was comfortable with her sexuality. I won’t bother because sex has not been the greatest benefit of knowing #3.

What I have learned from this woman is to keep going and never give up. In her personal life, she’s overcome many obstacles by being persistent and trying to improve every day.

About her work ethic: no matter how daunting the task, #3 dives right in and gets it done. She doesn’t care about payment or return favors or anything like that.

This work ethic was passed down from her father and both she and her next older brother have it (I don’t know her other siblings). How much you’re getting paid doesn’t really matter – if you’re on a job, you do it well, period. Now I’m not saying these people go out and get taken advantage of – not at all — but haven’t we all seen people say, “I’m not getting paid enough to do this?” I bet these people have never uttered those words. If they take a job, they do a job.

I worked with #3 at a restaurant for a while. If you haven’t worked in a food establishment, you really should give it a try. Give it three months. It’s pretty difficult. First, you’re moving all the time, but that’s not really the hard part. Dealing with the frustration and chaos is a big challenge, especially for me.

You see, I’m a programmer. The nice thing about computers is that they always react to you the same way. You tell the computer to do something and it does it. If something goes wrong, it’s because you haven’t told it the right thing to do. The computer is neither happy with me nor angry.

When you’re a waiter, you can’t really control anything. People are people and they have their own days. If they’re having a bad day, it bleeds through their expressions, even if they’re trying to be nice. If something goes a little wrong, then even if they try not to be upset, you can tell they are. Even if it’s not your fault, you feel responsible because you are the representative for the restaurant and it’s your job to make sure they have a pleasant experience.

And then there are Sundays. Holy green donkies, Batman, there are Sundays.

The churches let out and everyone comes in at once. You’re making seven drinks for one table while the manager is telling you to get to three other tables. It gets hot. You serve meal after meal. There are so many people coming in that you can’t get around to clean your other tables. Suddenly you have to clean a table so a new party can sit down.

#3 just keeps right on trucking. I’ve seen that woman handle parties of like 15 and keep it all moving. After you take the order, you turn in the order, and then you have to make the salads and serve soup and bread. Carrying huge trays is no fun. And, when you’re handing out the greens, without fail, someone wants something special. So you go get it, passing by waiting customers, thinking you can make this person happy. When you return, then someone else at the table wants something special. It goes on and on for several hours. #3 always smiles for the customer.

I don’t talk much about #3 because she’s a private person and I don’t want to embarrass her, but I sincerely appreciate knowing her and counting her as my friend.

It’s cosmic God stuff (for you skeptics: “terrific luck”) that she found me when she did because I really needed someone in my life. And when I did start staying with her, she put up with more crap from me than anyone else probably would have.

Oh, something #3 told me: Back when she was having a hard time she decided to put on a happy face when she went out, no matter how she was feeling. People respond well to her, so she imagines herself as spreading pixie dust when she goes around town – brightening peoples’ days.

Isn’t that nice?