For my 21st birthday all I wanted was to hang out with my friends and possibly get a little bit tipsy.
Of course, my expectations were far exceeded as I met a near-celebrity that night and got a story that I will tell forever.
To everyone except my parents.
With plans to go to Stoneleigh Lanes, my friends and I called none other than Jimmy’s Cab. We called, but allowed ourselves time to take at least two more Jello shots and a pee break, but unlike the school year, we got a call back within five minutes.
We scrambled to grab our stuff and made it to the lobby of our apartment complex.
Looking outside the glass door, it appeared that Jimmy either couldn’t wait longer than two minutes for us or couldn’t even find our road.
Nevertheless, as we bitched about whether to call Jimmy again, a voice came from the second level of our stairs.
“Do you want a new cab driver?”
It was a man who was in the laundry room with our neighbor from across the hall. Having never seen him before we were kind of skeptical and then I, after five jello shots, was just a little confused and asked, “Oh, you’re a cab driver?”
The guy walked down the stairs, passed us, and said to follow him. We looked at each other with doubt and then our neighbor, still upstairs, screamed down, “Don’t worry girls, he’s a good driver.”
Somehow that comforted us enough to get in the car with this man.
We followed him into the parking lot and got in his car. That’s when my friends decided that front seat was an award for being the birthday girl.
After telling him where we were going, he turned the radio up to a slow jam on 95.5 and asked us what our majors were.
He seemed like a nice guy.
While talking to him Baltimore football was brought up, of course.
After asking if we were Ravens fans he said, “Do you know whose uncle I am?”
We looked at each other. Then he said, “I’ll give you a hint, my name is Mark Lewis,” I shouted, “You’re Ray Lewis’s uncle?”
In the back of my mind I restrained myself from asking if that was the one that was wrapped up in a murder investigation.
Instead we asked whether he got club level seats at games and everything else that goes along with being a relative.
You know, the important things.
He said yes and he got to go through the tunnel and he’s met all of the team.
We later found out he had been dating our neighbor for three years. So I thought it was reasonable to ask when he was going to pop the question.
He laughed and asked why ‘us girls’ always have to bring that up.
When we finally got to the bowling alley, only after one other recap of drivers ed (that you can only turn left in a left turning lane) he pulled right up to the door.
Of course my friends and I all scrambled to offer him cash. But after they had paid for my dinner and gotten me gifts I told them I had this one. So I handed him a 20 and he tucked it into his visor and said, “I’ll save this for a rainy day.”
On my birthday apparently I was all about throwing the bills down.
But as I stepped out of the car I told him to take our neighbor out somewhere nice to eat.
And that is the story of how we met Ray Lewis’s uncle.
Maybe.
We’d like to think so.