Riding Up Front (RUF)

I was visiting a drone mapping company in Santa Monica and had just flown in for a few days. Aleksandre rolled up in his tiny blue Geo Prism at LAX. He was a big man, and it seemed as if he had stuffed himself physically into the car. He seemed relieved to find out I didn’t have a bag, so he didn’t have to extricate himself from the car.

“It’s small car,” he said in a Hollywood style Russian accent, except he wasn’t acting.

“Is it yours?”

“No!” He maneuvered past a few loitering cars, then stopped to gracefully give the finger at an SUV that swerved out. “All the crazies! This is a bright blue color car, how can they not see us?”

“Whose car is it?” I asked, after we managed to get to the highway without any other incidents.

“I bought it for my son.” He grimaced. “My step-son.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you!”

Alex frowned at me. “He is big failure.  Thinks he can have everything without doing anything. I paid for his school, his college, and he dropped out. He got into some trouble, I paid for him and helped him. And then I helped him find job. And then they fire him because he was stealing from them.”

“Oh that’s terrible.”

Alex went on a huge rant. “He doesn’t know how to work, you know? And then he tells me, “Alex, I want to drive for Lyft or Uber. I say, ‘It is hard work-you sure?’ He tell me, ‘Yes, yes, Alex.'” So I buy him car. I am not a rich man! But he thinks it’s easy! And then I check, and he hasn’t driven this car in a month for work! I had to clean it, he is dirty man.”

“Wow…why do you keep helping him out?”

The man had been seething. Suddenly, he softened. “His mother. She had hard time, you know? With him. By herself. I will always help him, because she loves him. Then maybe, she loves me too.”