The Brazilian

"Thanks for driving slow," said the wife.

"Yeah," said the husband, "that last driver was insane."

"Literally insane," added the wife.

"He flew over that steep hill," interjected the husband. "You know – the one from that movie."

"And he was laughing like a lunatic," he added.

"Lit-er-al-ly insane," said the wife.

"Did you ask him to slow down?" I inquired.

"Yeah," he said. "We made that mistake."

"He went twice as fast," she added. "And laughed twice as loud."

"We didn't get the number but he was Brazilian."

"Somebody should report him before he kills somebody – do you know who it is?"

"Let me think," I said. "You're sure he was Brazilian?"

"He was talking about the Brazilian soccer team."

"And he wore a colorful T-shirt that said Brazil."

"There are a lot of Brazilian drivers," I said. "And that sounds like all of them. There's one guy I'm thinking of – was he really ugly?"

"Oh, my God, no!" said the wife. "He was gorgeous! Ab-so-lute-ly gorgeous!"

"He wasn't that good looking," said the husband.

"Then, I don't know who it could be," I said lying.

It had to be Tony. He did drive very fast but everyone drives fast in Brazil. Besides, he was a pro. He didn't tailgate and he was in control. I don't think he ever even had an accident. He probably thought he was entertaining the couple.

I didn't have a car for a year and took taxis everywhere. I confess that most cab drivers go too fast for my tastes. I'm not above bailing from a taxi if I don't the driving. The dispatchers at my company called the order for my nightly ride home as,

"The old lady wants a cab at the garage."

One time when Tony was driving me home I did ask him why he was in such a hurry.

"I'm getting old, man," he said. "I need to save some money."

"Old?" I said laughing, "What are you? Twenty-eight?"


"Yeah – I know I look young but I'm forty. I dye my hair."

"YOU dye your hair?"

"Yeah. I really like women."

"Let me get this straight ... YOU have to dye your hair to get laid? You can't image how good that makes me feel."

"No – getting laid's no problema but I like women in their early twenties. Twenty-two is my ideal."

"My ideal is any woman who is too old for you. Why don't you send me your rejects?"

"It isn't just the woman," Tony said laughing. "I need the money for my daughter. She's fifteen and she needs a kidney. I have to save $25,000 for the operation. Then, I can give her my one of my kidneys. If I don't do it soon, it'll be too late. When she gets her kidney I'll slow down.

END