When I jumped into the back of the Uber a few weeks ago, I noticed my driver had on an “Italian t-shirt.” My mother coined this phrase because she hates the word “wife beater.” (She’s so cute.) Somehow, I knew I would be annoyed with this gentleman before I even put my seatbelt on. I was right: he ended up going in a circle twice before getting on the freeway. I took a deep breath and said "Let's use my GPS."
Fast forward 35 minutes later, and we’d become fast friends. We spoke about everything in that time, and I learned more about this man in the “Italian tee shirt.” Who knew!
I was reminded that oftentimes, we judge a book by its cover, and don't give people space to be themselves, without judgment.