The Lyft driver's guide to divorce
Apropos of whatever thoughts are going through his head as we drive the streets of North Hollywood, the Lyft driver points to a restaurant called Lotus Vegan Thai.
“You ever eat there?” the Lyft driver asks.
I’ve eaten a lot of Thai food in my day, but I can’t recall if I’ve ever eaten at Lotus Vegan Thai.
“No, I don’t think I've eaten there. Is it any good?”
“It’s the best,” the Lyft driver says. “And I'm not even a vegetarian, let alone vegan, but I love it.”
When it comes to recommending vegan food, there is no higher recommendation than that of a carnivore who tolerates the restrictions of a vegan diet as the ticket price for a trip to flavor country.
“I’ve been going there for years,” he continues. “I always get the Pad See Ew with tofu. The tofu is crispy on the outside, but soft like better on the inside.”
“You mean vegan butter,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Because it’s vegan.”
“Dude, it’s the bomb.”
The mention of the explosively good noodles blasts away the cobwebs from my mind. I have had the Pad See Ew with tofu at Lotus Vegan Thai; it’s excellent. I’ve eaten their food many times, but always delivery, so I didn’t make the connection between the storefront and the food. I try to explain this, but it’s too late to correct the record. The Lyft driver brought up Lotus Vegan Thai as prelude to his story, and whether I like it or not, the man is going to tell his story.
“Years ago, my ex-wife’s brother turned me on to Lotus Vegan Thai,” the Lyft driver says. “My former brother-in-law was a waste of space, but he did a stint in Thailand.”
“For work?” I ask.
“If you consider binge-drinking, watching Muay Thai fights, and getting into the kinds of shenanigans that require antibiotics work, then yeah, I guess you could say he was there for work.”
“Sounds more like a tourist visa to me.”
“Right, right. You got it. But the son of a bitch knows his Thai food. I’ll give him that.”
“So you used to go there with your brother-in-law?” I ask.
“And my ex-wife. But then she cheated on me with my former best friend. Caught them in the act. He ended up marrying her, after we got divorced.”
The Lyft driver’s story is a heavy one. By my count, the Lyft driver has cast three roles in his tale of heartbreak, but they’re all exes. The ex-wife, the ex-brother-in-law, and the ex-friend. What is someone supposed to say to about all those broken relationships? There must be wise words that cover situations like this, or at the very least warm words that can sooth the Lyft driver’s wound like a balm. But it’s tough to summon wisdom on the fly, and the warm words escape me. So I respond with the only word that comes to mind.
“Wow.”
We drive the next few blocks in silence. Presumably, the Lyft driver thinks about the life he once had with the woman he loved, the best friend he trusted, and the degenerate brother-in-law who saved him the hassle of searching Yelp for a good dinner spot. Meanwhile, I try to think of something else to say besides “wow,” but my mind fixates on the time I applied to a copywriting at Hallmark; they didn’t hire me, didn’t even call me in for an interview, and now I know why.
“You married?” the Lyft driver asks.
“Yes, happily married,” I say. “It’ll be twelve years this September.”
“It won’t last,” the Lyft driver says. “Take it from me. Nothing lasts. You want some advice?”
My gut tells me to pass on the advice because it seems like it’ll be too bitter for my palate. But it turns out the Lyft driver’s question was a rhetorical one because he gives me the advice just the same.
“Make sure you keep your favorite restaurants in the divorce,” he says.
“You kept Lotus Vegan Thai?” I ask.
“You bet your ass I did,” the Lyft driver says. “My lawyer thought I was crazy. Her lawyer thought I was crazy too. But we fought over Lotus Vegan Thai. I think we drove both of our lawyers nuts, but I won. She got the condo, which I always hated, and didn’t want after I caught her there with my best friend. I got Lotus Vegan Thai, which we both loved. They aren’t allowed to go there. Not her, not my ex-friend, not even my ex-brother-in-law. They’re all banned. It says so in the divorce papers. I eat there all the time.”
I’m not an expert on divorce law, so I don’t know if it’s possible to get custody of your favorite Thai restaurant in the divorce. Also, I’m pretty sure the Lyft driver is wrong about my marriage and our prospects for going the distance.
Still, the Lyft driver’s bitter tale of heartbreak and Pad See Ew sticks with me. It reminds me of that classic Humphrey Bogart line about “all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world.” I don’t drink, but if I lost Christina, I might drink, and if it came to that, I wouldn’t want her walking into my gin joint, even if I grudgingly had to respect her new beau’s anti-fascist credentials.
Just to play it safe, I make a mental note to hash out a post-nuptial agreement with Christina. She can keep every Sephora in the San Fernando Valley. She can keep every artisanal witchcraft store, too. And I’d even be willing to give her every burger joint from Chatsworth to Long Beach. But I get to keep the bookstores. And the weed shops. And the taco stands. That’s only fair, right?
Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.
The Lyft driver lost three people in this story, but he kept a great Thai place. Do you think he’s happy? Explain.
If you had to split up with your partner, what local business would you insist on keeping in the divorce? Sing the praises of that local business, but for the sake of your relationship, make sure your partner knows this exercise is hypothetical.
Is my post-nuptial proposal fair, or will Christina’s lawyer destroy me?
If a carnivore recommends vegan food, I trust it. But if a vegan tells me they had some kickass ribs, I wouldn’t touch that rib joint with a ten-foot pole. Why the double-standard?
What’s your go-to order at a Thai restaurant? I’m all about the Prik King, myself.
Want more Michael Estrin stories? I’ve got two books!
Ride/Share: Micro Stories of Soul, Wit and Wisdom from the Backseat is a collection of my Lyft driver stories🚗🗣
Not Safe for Work is a slacker noir novel based on my experiences covering the adult entertainment industry💋🍑🍆🕵️♂️
*If you bought one of my books, thank you! Please take a moment to leave a review. It helps a lot💪🙏
The line you were looking for was: the common denominator in all your failed relationships, is you.
Just as you don’t take a vegan’s advice about food, you don’t take marriage advice from a divorced man.