“Stop being so silly,” the dinner-party guests said. “It’s a driver’s job to wait.”
My friend Sholeh and I had arrived in India that morning. A friend of a friend was having a dinner party in New Delhi and had invited us. Our driver, Sharma, waited outside in the Ambassador car.
“It’s cold,” I said.
“It’s his work,” Sholeh said. “He’ll be okay. He has a coat.”