Ever felt like it was your driver running the show, not you??
That he acted like you were lucky that he took time off his busy and successful career to come work for you, and you should be thankful to him for doing so?
The funniest, or should I say saddest part in all this is that though I don’t really have a curfew, its my driver that makes me go home by 11 one weekdays, by 12:30 or one on weekends. NOT my parents. I actually go home because I’m afraid he’ll “go to sleep” and “not hear the phone” when I call for him to pick me up. Not that i blame him. no job should be 24/7. but what am I supposed to do? walk home? take the bus? a taxi maybe? uuhh… I don’t think so. My only remaining options are either finding a ride with a friend travelling in the same direction or calling a car for hire. funny how those don’t mind working whatever hour of day or night.
That reminds me of a little situation that happened to me related to this topic:
I was once at a friend’s house for a dinner celebrating her PhD. It was a lovely event where I saw girls i haven’t seen since college. But in typical Saudi fashion, dinner wasn’t served till 11pm. On a Wednesday night. I went to work that morning at 8:30, but thats fine. The problem lies in the fact that I asked my driver to pick me up at 11. So, he gives me a “missed call” (code for “I’m here”) right when they announce that dinner is served. and I, being the nice person that I am, instead of ignoring him, called to let him know that I’ll be another 20-30 min. Most girls I know wouldn’t bother calling. Dont know why I did. but I did, and he told me that he was tired and didn’t want to wait.
I told him to take a nap in the car.
he said if I’m not out in 5 minutes he’s leaving me.
am I the only one thats shocked here?
yeah, didnt think so.
anyhow, i started to feel my blood boil, so i told him to wait and stop arguing, hung up the phone in his face and headed to the buffet. (i forgot to mention that i tried to leave before all this, but the hostess insisted i stayed for dinner.
20 min later (i really rushed myself) I said my good byes (no dessert), grabbed my Abaya and headed out. I couldnt see him standing with the drivers outside, so i called him.
his phone was off.
I was so angry I thought I was going to have an apoplectic fit right there. what was I supposed to do?
I saw a friend headed out, so I had her drop me off at a close friend’s house nearby. thank god she had a driver that took me home. but I was so angry at the SOB I avoided him like the plague for the next week because I was afraid I’d kill him. then my parents would kill ME because I had a mom and 3 sisters and only one other driver and it’s too hard to find a replacement so fast.
I did wind up yelling at him a week later. when i finally had to get in the car with him to take me to a restaurant. He had the nerve to tell me not to be late. I told him if he ever repeated that episode again he’d live to regret it. He told me I should be careful, that I don’t know what he does in the Philippines (!!???!!). I told him i don’t give a sh* what he does there if he messes with me I’ll mess him up. walked outta the car and slammed the door with a satisfying bang.
Thank God when I’m angry I have no room for fear. I’ve never responded well to threats.
anyhow. he’s gone now. good riddance.
now I’m stuck w a passive-aggressive Neanderthal. But that’s for another day.
(If you’ve had a similar situation, I’d love to read about it!)
p.s. i might sound like a Queen B to some of you (especially if you don’t know me) but I’m really not. honest.