"It Had To Be You" - Frank Sinatra

We created a class character, Frank. E. Olfelson. Here is his description, followed by my story of him.

Meet Frank E. Olfelson.
60 years old, from North New Jersey where he was born and raised. Danish ancestry, he is first generation American and gets his name from Frank Sinatra (he also has blue eyes). Thick and wavy white hair (he is proud of and doesn’t wear hats). He loves black salty licorice. He is a Taxi Driver, but hates his job because he wants to be a music teacher (he plays the sax but lacks confidence). He was married at 19 to Gloria, a feisty Italian woman (who dies of cancer at age 47) She had a cat, Miko, who occasionally shows up. Gloria is the love of Frank’s life, she was a waitress, and pursued him because he is shy. They have a son, Sam E. Olfelsen (named after Sammie Davis Jr.) Frank has a fellow taxi driver friend that he confides in. He is Lutheran in name, a smoker, tall 6’0”, kind of paunchy from sitting all day. He notices people from the cab and compares them to instruments. (p.s. the cat does not have AIDs).



“I can't believe it Miko,” Frank mumbled with a cigarette pressed between his thinned lips. They use to be thick with collagen, and now just a rim to his big mouth.
“All these years...” he trailed off. The Very Best of Frank Sinatra was playing in the bedroom. Sam, his son, had gotten him the CD for his birthday last year. For the last 129 days of listening to it once a day, it reminded him of his parents sitting by the fire place listening to their record player, holding hands and letting Mr. Sinatra say all there needed to be said; memories of him as a kid running around in New Jersey alley ways with sweat dripping, heart thumping during the summer; but mostly of Gloria and the cafe they met.
He stared in the half fogged mirror, making his lips form around the imaginary sax mouth piece, pretending to play the sax part of the song. With a grunt, he looked at his wizened face, noticing the wrinkles around his face, his hair now white, his ears which seemed too big. He reached for his cigarette carton that held the few toiletries he had, and rubbed his freshly shaved face with some Old Spice aftershave, careful not to touch the scar left on his neck of that young fellow who almost got away with his taxi. Thank goodness for Charlie.
“She asked me personally to pick her up...I don't even know how to do this anymore,” Frank could see Miko out of the corner of his eye, walking around rubbing his back on the window which hadn't been shut for years.
“One of these days, cat, you are going to fall out of the window and you won't be alive to hear me say I told you so. I mean, what am I, a limo driver? I'm no young buck anymore...” His thick Boston accent left a ring of smoke in the air which mingled with the steam. At that moment, Frank Sinatra's “It Had To Be You” came on, coming from his bedroom.
“That's it, I'm telling Charlie to pick her up.”