About a year ago I was in a United Cab with a friend headed for Banks Street Bar to see a band perform. Although I normally maintain a “no conversations” rule with cabbies due to my own social awkwardness, the driver was friendly and we started a conversation.
He was from Pakistan. I received my undergraduate degree in political science, and I was interested in a native’s take on the political turmoil there. The discussion was enlightening. After the ride, the driver continued to converse with me for a while as we parked – my friend had to come grab me to tell me I was going to miss the music if I lingered much longer.
A few months ago I read an article that a Pakistani cab driver had been murdered in Eastern New Orleans. I recognized the man I had spoken with from his photo. He had been robbed, shot and left for dead.