01/14/2026
Sidewalk Stories 094: Zoran
About a month ago, I was walking through a hotel lobby and noticed a man sitting on the sofa. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his late 50s/early 60s.
He kept looking up at me, then away, then back at me with a desperate look. As I walked past him, he hesitantly spoke up.
"Ex....excuse me, sir. Hi. You...you do Uber?"
"No, I'm sorry. I don't drive for Uber." I said.
He immediately asked, almost pleading, if I could help him get something to eat. He pleaded that he had money and just needed a ride.
He told me his name was Zoran, and explained he was a truck driver from Florida. Zoran's semi had tipped over on the highway during the big snow storm. His company was sending a replacement to him from Chicago, but they didn't provide a date on when it would arrive. He had been stuck in the hotel for the past 3 days and his stomach was not doing well with all the fast food since that was the only thing around.
But what really broke me was when he told me, "I have been asking people in the lobby for 3 days. Nobody want to help me. Please?"
There was a desperation in his voice, in his eyes...that felt honest and worn down.
I told him I needed to gas up anyway, and that he was welcome to join me. It wasn't much better than fast food, but Kwik Trip has a decent vegetable and fresh food selection for a gas station. He happily agreed and hopped in.
When we got to Kwik Trip, Zoran stepped out as I was pumping gas.
"Please, sir...you wait here, yes? You not leave yet, okay? Please?"
I promised I wouldn't leave him stranded, and that I'd be waiting for him exactly where we parked.
"Thank you, sir! I come back quick!" he said.
A few minutes later he came back with a few bags and handed me a bottle of water and some bananas.
"Thank you so much, sir! Here. This for you!"
On the drive back we chatted for a bit. He said he was from Yugoslavia and Syria. He had been in the US for about 3 years and his wife is American, also from Florida.
"So what do you think of America so far? Is it what you expected?" I asked.
He paused for a second before calmly saying, "America is very loud. Very busy. And....many people are.... very mean."
That hurt to hear.
I know my city to be much more than this, and his situation him only seemed to confirm what he was telling me. I can only imagine what he's experienced in his short time since living in the US.
Upon hearing those words, I immediately thought back to my parents and relatives coming to America. The sacrifices they made for a chance at something better, only to endure the things they did.
Zoran asked for my phone number when we got back to the hotel in case he needed to make another food run, not knowing how long he would be at the hotel. I could hear the uncertainty in his voice and gave him my number as we said our goodbyes.
As I drove off, I kept thinking about how long he’d been asking for help and how normal it seemed for everyone to keep walking.
