Finding you a ride…
Draymon will be arriving in a white Chevy Impala in 1 minute.
Black male. Black glasses.
Okay which portion of this cemented playground of chaos titled ‘ride share pickip’ do I stand in for the next sixty seconds ?
I scurry across a driveway after spotting Daymon’s car in the left portion of my field of vision.
Airport traffic director please don’t blow a whistle at me for walking in front of traffic , it’s just that I’ve lost my ride share in the past for not getting to the car quickly enough…
“Wow that was quick.”
I smile quickly and let out a noise that is something like an agreement , a laugh, and a sigh mixed into one .
The car is immaculately clean, and feels smaller than the older models my husband use to drive .
“ Where your flight coming from?”
“ It’s a lot of y’all on that flight .”
“ You from Houston?”
“ You from here ?”
The next 10-15 minutes are spent cruising the highway, listening to local pop radio, as I check my phone.
When we exit the highway, the station is changed to local R&B.
“ Oh you staying in the quarter.”
“How long you here?”
“ Till Monday.”
“ You like to party?”
“Nah not really, I do wanna have a little fun …”
Thanks are given as we pull up to the hotel and Draymon takes my bag out of the car…
“ Feels like you got a dead body in here!”