text: TRAPPED We had barely moved in thirty minutes. I realized, of course, that I would be in the same frustrating circumstance if I did not have a passenger, but there she was. Like me, Barbara was on the board of the Community Center which met once a month. Barbara was a single (divorced) woman about my age, with two grown daughters away at college. She worked as an administrative assistant in a real estate company. I approached these meetings like I do my teeth cleanings, necessary but kind of a drag and a time suck. But being on the board was my attempt to “give something back”. At each meeting, Barbara would ask for a ride home. She would take the train from her job to the meeting, and since I lived near her it wasn’t out of my way. This was no hardship, except for the fact that we had little in common, and in fact, we tended to have opposing viewpoints on many board issues. The 30-minute ride to our neighborhood seemed a lot longer as we would struggle to make conversation. This meeting ran longer (and was more tedious) than usual. A lot of resolutions and voting and discussions, punctuated by a few people on the board so completely in love with the sound of their own voices that they insisted on reiterating points someone else had already made. Mercifully, the meeting came to an end two and a half hours after it had begun. There being no windows in the boardroom, we were all shocked when we got to the front door to see that in the past two-plus hours, a storm had dumped a foot of snow on the ground, and it continued to fall at an alarming rate. Shit, I thought, after a whole day of work and an interminable board meeting, this is just what I need to cap my day.Barbara helped me clean off the car, which was something of a futile gesture given how fast the snow was coming down. I had determined to stay off the side roads which I knew would be more treacherous. When we got on the main roads, however, it appeared that everyone else had the same thought and we were stuck inching along the parkway until we stopped. What made matters worse for me is that extreme weather always turns me into a white-knuckle driver. I decided not to mention that fact to Barbara. No sense in both of us being anxious, not to mention the fact that, well, it’s embarrassing. We quickly ran out of traffic conversation, as we had no other route options, and our plight was evident. “So, that was some meeting,” I volunteered, having no idea what I meant by that. “If you mean it was excruciatingly boring, even by our usual standards, I agree.” “I suppose we should be glad that we didn’t have to put out any fires, like harassment complaints.” “You’re right. I think we should hope for a continuation of boring meetings.” Having nothing more to say about the meeting we went right to the tried and true. “Did not see this storm coming,” I volunteered. “I don’t think anyone did”, Barbara countered. Not being meteorologists, that concluded the obligatory weather discussion portion of our drive. We had barely gone a mile. We were both tired and hungry, and I was holding on to the steering wheel so tightly that I could have been stopping the blood circulating to my wrists. Then, Barbara said something totally unexpected. “You know Mike, you’ve been driving me home for over a year. Our paths have crossed at other meetings and outside of where you work, I know nothing about you. You could be an axe murderer for all I know.” “You’re right, we don’t know anything about each other. But I should tell you that I didn’t qualify for the axe murderer slot on the board. I think Mrs. Hernandez got that.” Mrs. Hernandez, the 85-year-old community activist, is most likely to be nominated for sainthood. “Well now that I’m fairly certain that there isn’t an axe underneath your seat, why don’t you tell me something that people in your professional circles don’t know. And then I’ll do the same. What do you think?” The traffic started moving, though not very quickly. Just like that, I forgot about my weather anxiety as I thought about how much I felt like revealing to someone who was slightly more than a stranger. There was something about being in this barely moving car, with snow coming down hard that made me feel like I was in a protective cocoon. “Well, I’m currently single after being in a relationship for four years. I thought we’d settle down...” “But...” “But she found someone else.” “Sorry to hear that. You had no idea?” “Not only didn’t I have an idea, but I was not aware that-how can I say this- that her gender preference was more fluid than I realized.” “You mean...” “She fell in love with a woman.” “Wow.” “Yeah, didn’t see that coming at all.” “Does it make it worse that it was a woman?” “You know, it really doesn’t. Being dumped is being dumped.” And the floodgates opened. I was no longer thinking about the snow. I hadn’t told anyone the full story, fearing other people’s judgement not only of me but of Anne, my ex. As hurt as I was, I didn’t want to hear anyone speak harshly of her. I barely had my foot on the gas as we continued to be enveloped in white. I replayed the whole relationship for Barbara-well, the highlights, anyway. I felt somehow safe enough to describe how the relationship evolved and devolved so she could get the whole picture of my sadness. I loved Anne. I just couldn’t get angry. You love who you love. I took a breath and said, “That was probably more than you bargained for. It was certainly more than I expected to say.” “Well, I’m glad you did”, Barbara replied. “Okay, your turn.” “I’m not sure if what I’ve got to say will make this better or worse for you”. “Hard to see how it could be worse.” As we got further, we picked up a bit of speed, but I was still very cautious as the snow continued to fall. “I have something I’ve been keeping from everyone. I’ve been very vague about my separation from my husband. I let everyone think he was just disenchanted with our relationship. Some people speculated he had someone else, and I didn’t discourage that line of thinking. The reality is, he caught me in bed with a woman.” I was stunned and could only manage, “Wow, that’s big.” I think I always knew that I was gay, but I tamped down those feelings and went through the motions, to have, what I thought was a “normal” life. Then I met Sophia, and something just got...I don’t know...activated, and my life and how I saw myself just changed completely. I have to tell you though, it’s very freeing. I’ve come out at work and to my friends.” “Well, that all sounds, good “, I answered. “Yes, except I haven’t told my daughters. My husband is mortified by the whole thing. He’d rather they think he cheated on me than that their mother is a lesbian. I’m going to tell them next week. That is if I can screw up the courage.” “You sound pretty brave to me.” All of a sudden, we found ourselves in front of Barbara’s apartment building. It seemed like we had gotten there by magic. “Well, we made it.” “Yeah, this is where I get off. Thanks for listening” “You too, and good luck next week.” As I drove away, I was sure we’d never have another boring ride home.