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 .”

“ Yeah.”

“ You from Houston?”

“ No.”

“ 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.”

“ Yep.”

“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!”

Wait…, what?

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