257 - Traffic
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Jeffrey and I don't just write Welcome to Night Vale, we also write books that are not about Night Vale. And here are some of them: Alice Isn't Dead, a lesbian road trip horror love story for fans of Stephen King. The Halloween Moon, my book for kids of any age about a Halloween where things really start to get weird for everyone.

The First Ten Years, a memoir from me and my wife about our relationship told year by year without consulting each other about our differences in memory. And from Jeffrey, You Feel It Just Below the Ribs, an apocalyptic novel that takes place in the same universe as the Within the Wires podcast. No matter what you're looking for, we've written a book just for you. Find them where you find books. Okay, bye!

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Listeners, I'm sorry for the poor audio quality. I normally drive myself to work every day, but this morning, I thought I'd try something new. The Detour Rideshare app, developed by Night Vale's own Ryan LaFleur and recently sold by Ryan to a giant tech company, was offering very cheap rates this morning. Almost less than the cost of gas.

The only catch is that you have to share your ride with other commuters. And I thought, that seems fine. What a great idea these tech geniuses have come up with. A larger vehicle that can carry many people and drives around the city dropping each person off as it picks up new people. I can't believe it took computer programmers and venture capitalists to come up with something like this. But...

While it sounds like a good idea on paper, the new detours business model probably still needs some work. I left my house 30 minutes earlier than normal, but this ride is taking way longer than I could have imagined. Thankfully, I'm able to call the studio and have my producer patch me into the broadcast so I can still do my show.

Unfortunately, I don't have any of the breaking news stories to report to you right now, so I guess I'll report on what I know. And with that, let's have a look at traffic. There's a massive blockage on Galloway Road right now. Bumper to bumper cars. I know this because I'm in the middle of this jam right now.

We've moved half a block in 20 minutes. Not sure yet what's causing this stop down, but I can do some investigative journalism into how those involved feel about this traffic.

Next to me, driving an Audi sports coupe, there's a man in an olive suit and golden tie with thinning, slicked-back hair. He is drumming his steering wheel frantically and caterwauling Irvin Berlin's heatwave at the top of his lungs. From what I can tell, he's singing along to Patti LuPone live at the Hollywood Bowl album. Not my favorite of her albums, but there are some real bops on that one.

If you must know, my favorite Patti LuPone album is Tomb of the Mutilated. Uh, just behind me in traffic, there's a teenage girl at the wheel of a mid-2000s Nissan Sentra. She's having a heated argument with the older woman in the passenger seat.

Perhaps I'm projecting my own experiences from that age onto this duo, but I think this older woman is the mother, and this mom can't stop correcting every little thing her daughter does. Put on your turn signal. Don't brake so hard. Turn down that radio.

"Who's that boy you're dating, Cecil?" "You don't respect me or Abby. Everything's about you, you, you, and why wouldn't it be? It's a man's world after all. But you're still just a boy, aren't you?" These are the things I'm pretty sure this older woman is saying to the teenage girl. And the girl is defending her choices, her life, her sovereignty.

She will have to do this vigorously throughout her life, thinking her mother doesn't really understand her, never understood her, but what the daughter truly wants, even if she doesn't know it, is to feel comfortable, safe, and accepted. Also, this girl, if she's like me, she's been sneaking out in her mom's car a few times a week since she was 14. So, if you're on Galloway Road, expect delays.

I know Detour was bought out a few weeks ago, but the whole company seems so different already. For instance, they added Apple and Google Pay. They made their app more user-friendly. They even changed their logo. It used to be the letters DT in bright green, and the upper bar of the T was an arrow that curled back around and became the D. And all of that was in a glowing orb, being held by this adorable chubby ghost.

Their current logo is just a black square with a complicated white maze on it. Oh, they also added this "share a ride" option. As I said earlier, Detour now has a fleet of larger vehicles that drive in set routes all around town. And for a very small fee, you can hop on and hop off anywhere you need. A groundbreaking concept, if there ever was one.

Though, I will say, I was expecting something like a van or even one of those long rectangular vehicles that school students ride in. They're usually yellow, whatever they're called. I thought I was going to get one of those. Or even a large SUV of some sort. But what showed up was a cargo truck.

with a single bench seat and a long truck bed with high wood slats like a fence around it. I was also surprised to see a human driver. Detour used ghost drivers exclusively, and it was the largest provider of jobs for ghosts in the American Southwest, but I guess the Department of Labor requires equal opportunity employment.

When my driver arrived, I was disappointed to see someone else was already in the passenger seat. Fortunately, no one had claimed the middle seat, so I didn't have to ride in the open-air truck bed. The only awkward part is that the truck has manual transmission and the stick shift is between my knees. I do appreciate my driver for not making it weird when he has to change gears. All business, this guy.

Both of the men in this truck are dressed alike, though they look very different. For instance, the man to my left is not tall, while the man to my right is not short. I think they know each other, but they don't ever talk. So maybe the outfits matching was just an embarrassing coincidence? Oh, great. The driver's phone just pinged again. Another passenger needs picking up.

Oh look, there he is, about 20 yards up ahead, waving to our truck. Buddy, with this traffic, even 20 yards is gonna be a while. Since I still don't have any news stories to share, let's have a look again at traffic. There's a park alongside Galloway Road, and in that park is a bench, and on that bench sit two people. Two people I haven't seen in a long time.

Nazar Al Mujahid, the former football coach at Knightville High School, and Francis Donaldson, the owner of the Antiques Mall. I cannot hear what they say, but I can see they are sharing a snack and having a friendly, light conversation.

In Frances's eyes and the position of her body, I can see openness. I can see delight in a sunny day. I can see charm and warmth. The kind of charm and warmth you feel when you run into a charming and warm acquaintance. Someone you think fondly of but never stay in touch with. Someone about whom you think, "I am fond of them. I hope we can stay in touch."

In Nazar's eyes and body, I see the desperation of time. I see the need to be known, to know someone else deeply.

I see the love for a woman who looks and sounds and smells exactly like the only woman he has ever loved. Even though she is not the same woman, can never be the same woman. I see Nazar hiding his desperation well. It's only noticeable if you're looking for it. This is good. He smiles at something Francis says. He does so coolly, measuredly.

There's a long pause in their conversation, but neither looks uncomfortable in it. This has been... traffic. The cars in front of us are moving now. We picked up our passenger, and he's dressed the same as the other two men in the cab of this truck, but I cannot tell if this new passenger is tall or short, because he sits in the bed of the truck, along with a few wood crates.

Up ahead, I can see what's causing the traffic, and of course, it's construction. Finally, we're moving past it though. Oh, no wait, we're stopping. The man in the back is getting out. He's joining the construction crew. And now they're just taking all their stuff and throwing it into the back of the truck. Along with several more crates they seem to have pulled from an enormous sinkhole taking up the right two lanes of Galloway Road.

Okay, now we're moving. Listeners, the radio station is only about a mile away, so I should be back very soon to give you all the news you want. Or, no, hey, driver, that's the turnoff for where I'm going. Excuse me, driver, this is not the way to the radio station. Well, I guess let's have a look at traffic again.

There are places in the desert that few humans ever see, where few vehicles ever traverse. There are no roads, no trees, no clouds. There are places in the desert beyond the sand wastes, beyond the scrublands, that are only earth in every direction. Nothing human made, and nothing human. There are places in the desert that remind you how vulnerable we really are.

We have entered one of those places. There is no traffic to report here. There are no rules of the road because there are no roads. Here you can travel at any speed you want and still never get anywhere at all. I wish I understood the route my driver was taking. Maybe I should have gotten out and walked back at 14th and Galloway.

Hey! Hey, what are you doing? Um, listeners, the man who is not short is touching my head. What is that? Oh. Oh, it's a blindfold. Why didn't you say so? Oh my god, you startled me.

Look, if you don't want me to see something, I will happily oblige. Like those public safety ads always say, if you see something, say nothing, don't be a rat, but also try not to see something. So yeah, bring on that blindfold if you think I need it. While this man covers my eyes and I am left to think quiet thoughts in darkness, why don't you think quiet thoughts about the weather? History's unaccounted for.

Mysteries unexplored But I'm sure That it was never meant for us To find And I'm sure That it's always been Yesterday drifts behind Tomorrow may never come But I'm sure That it was never set to arrive

And I'm sure that it doesn't really exist. I don't think I come to grips with time. Cause I'm sure that it was never up to us to find. And I'm sure that we're all alive to die.

And I'm sure that it was all by this design with the waves. No, I got to grips with time. All things push and pull. Sorry, cause I'm sure that we're all

*Song: The Last of Us - The Last of Us*

My blindfold was finally removed, and I see that it is night now, listeners. We are finally returning to town. The trip into the desert was uneventful, at least for me. I couldn't see what was happening, and everything I heard was pretty boring. We stopped for a few hours. I heard what sounded like a gathering of dozens of people and a few more trucks.

There was intermittent shouting and maybe a fight? Oh, the man to my right is shaking his head, no. Maybe just a pickup basketball game. He's nodding yes. So, uh, okay. A bunch of pals met in the desert to play basketball. Then I heard wooden crates being unloaded from our truck and reloaded onto other trucks and vice versa. Does that seem right? No response. Moving on.

I heard a coyote crying out, or perhaps it was a man crying out? The man who is not tall is shaking his head. No. Okay, so definitely a coyote crying, followed by what sounded like a gunshot. The man who is not short is shaking his head. No. So the sound was probably just a truck backfiring. Both men are nodding their heads. Yes.

And after the sound of the truck backfiring, the coyote was completely silent. Listeners, the man who is not short is not the same man who rode out here with me. I'm not sure what happened to the other man who is not short. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something seems fishy here. Anyway...

The changes at Detour have been unusual, but I will say an improvement overall. I love the app's new interface, for one. And while I'm terribly late for work, most of that could be blamed on the construction on Galloway. Plus, it was my first time trying this new... share-a-ride thing? I'm a rookie, and I'll do a better job planning ahead next time. All in all, though, it was a good experience.

Besides, isn't getting to where you're going 68% of the fun? That's what Carlos is always saying. He scientifically proved this formula in a peer-reviewed paper. And I believe in science. We've had a decent ride back from the farthest reaches of the desert, haven't we guys? Oh, they're both nodding yes. We did have to pick up a few other riders, but that was the 68% of the fun part. In fact, we gave Francis and Nazar a ride.

Through the back window of our truck, I asked them how things were going between the two of them. I shouted over the roar of the open window, "It looks like your date is going well!" Nazar quickly corrected me, saying, "Oh, Cecil, it's not a date. We're just..." Francis caught his eye as he was speaking. He lost confidence in what he was saying, but gained confidence in what he was doing.

We dropped them off for their dinner reservation at The Wounded Fawn, Chef LaShawn Mason's newest hunting grounds to table concept. Good luck, you two. We also picked up Jackie Fierro, who was late to meet her half-brother Josh, for his birthday celebration at Schrodinger's Taproom and Bar and Grill and Public House Simulacrum. It was so great to catch up with Jackie, who's hired some additional help at the pawn shop so that she can spend more time with family and friends.

"I'm getting older, Cecil, and I'm so happy about that," she said. Oh, we also gave a ride to Michelle Wynn, who was so thrilled to ride in a cargo truck instead of these generic crossover SUVs everyone seems to have.

"Did you know that I saw a line of five Kia Sportages all the exact same color of blue the other day?" Michelle said and then huffed. "I hated them. Nothing says 'Soul Death' quite like a blue Kia Sportage," she added. "Oh yeah, Soul Death comes standard on all 2025 models," I replied. But she didn't laugh, which I took as a sign that she really liked my joke.

Most of the people we picked up along the way were dressed exactly like the two men on either side of me. These other people hopped in the back. Often they were holding crates. I guess the new owners of Detour are trying to maximize profits by doing package shipments along with their commuter shipments? Honestly, smart. These tech folks think of everything.

I also want to add that my driver was a true professional and a great conversationalist. In that, he didn't talk to me the whole time. He just let me do my work. I appreciate that. Too often these rideshare drivers want to talk to you about sports or teach you spells or ask you trivia questions for money. So, five stars to this guy. And a big tip too. Thanks pal. He's nodding.

Oh, I'm Cecil, by the way. What's your name? Well, you're driving. How about you over here, sir? I'm Cecil. Okay. Oh, that's me. That's my radio station up there. Oh, I made it to work, listeners, just in time for my show to end. Stay tuned next for a man calling his husband for a ride home. And as always, good night. Night Vale, good night.

Welcome to Night Vale as a production of Night Vale Presents. It is written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, and Bree Williams and produced by Disparition. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. Original music by Disparition. All of it can be found at disparition.bandcamp.com. Comments, questions, email us at...

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