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Authors: Darren Coleman
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night. So you went?”
“Unfortunately.”
W e downed another couple bottles and the conversation began to flow freely and we didn’t stop talking for the next hour and a half. When we landed she said, “You know, Khalil, I feel a little better than I did when I boarded.”
“Well it was nice talking to you and meeting you.” We climbed off of the plane and headed toward the baggage claim. We walked together almost like a couple and stood next to each other once we reached the luggage carousel. From looking at her presentation I wasn’t surprised when she stepped toward the conveyer belt to take the Louis Vuitton luggage. I was surprised at the size of the two huge pieces. She had a ton of stuff.
“Honey, let me help you with that,” I said as I grabbed the first of two fifty-pound pieces. “How long were you in South Beach for, a couple of weeks?” I said sarcastically.
“One of those was nearly empty when I went. I filled it up, courtesy of Bal Harbour Shops.” She smiled.
My luggage came and I said, “Is your ride here or did you drive?”
“Oh, I’ll just catch a cab.”
I started to part ways then. I knew that my girlfriend wouldn’t approve of what I did next but I told myself that it was harmless.
“Well consider today to be your lucky day. I drive an SUV so I can give you a ride home. That way you don’t have to ruin some poor cabbie’s shocks with your ton of luggage.”
“Are you sure? I catch a cab home from the airport all the time.”
“Absolutely. Come on. As a matter of fact, let me wheel one of those for you.”
We pulled out of the garage in my Cadillac EXT and hit 395 headed for Chevy Chase. It was blazing and humid so I turned on the air but she still put her window down. “I need some air, maybe the liquor,” she said.
“No problem.”
“So, Khalil. Do you love what you do?”
“I did love it at one point. I still like it.”
“If you don’t love it anymore, why do you do it?”
“It pays the bills and it’s a stepping stone to greater things. Plus I’ve made a lot of connections to help me with my future in directing.”
She nodded as she stared straight ahead. “So do you make a lot of money doing what you do?”
I laughed. “I do all right for myself. Why do you ask? You thinking of getting into the profession?”
“No reason. I hope I didn’t offend.”
“Not at all.”
Then she turned to me and asked, “So do you have a wife, a girlfriend?”
It amazed me that we’d talked for the last couple of hours but this hadn’t come up. I looked over into her beautiful face and realized that I probably hadn’t brought it up for a reason. And although I had never cared enough about any woman not to cheat on her, my situation now was different.
My life had been in turmoil. An abusive situation, to foster care, to more abuse had been my journey. Through it all I’d learned to travel light and look out for myself. No matter where I was mentally the only constant was that school at first, then work, had been my refuge and I’d stayed out of trouble as best I could. I kept my grades up and in the fall of my senior year I’d applied to both Howard University’s and NYU’s film schools. I’d been accepted into Howard and thus landed in the nation’s capital.
On my own it had been a free-for-all. I’d left the poor, beaten, and battered Khalil behind and introduced everyone to a new me. The one who didn’t care about anyone other than himself, and what I found amazed me. Women loved it. The nonchalant attitude seemed to be an enigma, even a challenge that they stepped up to the plate to meet, one after the other.
I crushed them all. Even the nice ones, for reasons I couldn’t really understand at the time. That was until I met the girl who I believed was the one.
Now here I was, riding along with a stranger, playing the role of the Good Samaritan. In all actuality, I was captivated by hercharms. Still, I felt compelled to answer her
“Unfortunately.”
W e downed another couple bottles and the conversation began to flow freely and we didn’t stop talking for the next hour and a half. When we landed she said, “You know, Khalil, I feel a little better than I did when I boarded.”
“Well it was nice talking to you and meeting you.” We climbed off of the plane and headed toward the baggage claim. We walked together almost like a couple and stood next to each other once we reached the luggage carousel. From looking at her presentation I wasn’t surprised when she stepped toward the conveyer belt to take the Louis Vuitton luggage. I was surprised at the size of the two huge pieces. She had a ton of stuff.
“Honey, let me help you with that,” I said as I grabbed the first of two fifty-pound pieces. “How long were you in South Beach for, a couple of weeks?” I said sarcastically.
“One of those was nearly empty when I went. I filled it up, courtesy of Bal Harbour Shops.” She smiled.
My luggage came and I said, “Is your ride here or did you drive?”
“Oh, I’ll just catch a cab.”
I started to part ways then. I knew that my girlfriend wouldn’t approve of what I did next but I told myself that it was harmless.
“Well consider today to be your lucky day. I drive an SUV so I can give you a ride home. That way you don’t have to ruin some poor cabbie’s shocks with your ton of luggage.”
“Are you sure? I catch a cab home from the airport all the time.”
“Absolutely. Come on. As a matter of fact, let me wheel one of those for you.”
We pulled out of the garage in my Cadillac EXT and hit 395 headed for Chevy Chase. It was blazing and humid so I turned on the air but she still put her window down. “I need some air, maybe the liquor,” she said.
“No problem.”
“So, Khalil. Do you love what you do?”
“I did love it at one point. I still like it.”
“If you don’t love it anymore, why do you do it?”
“It pays the bills and it’s a stepping stone to greater things. Plus I’ve made a lot of connections to help me with my future in directing.”
She nodded as she stared straight ahead. “So do you make a lot of money doing what you do?”
I laughed. “I do all right for myself. Why do you ask? You thinking of getting into the profession?”
“No reason. I hope I didn’t offend.”
“Not at all.”
Then she turned to me and asked, “So do you have a wife, a girlfriend?”
It amazed me that we’d talked for the last couple of hours but this hadn’t come up. I looked over into her beautiful face and realized that I probably hadn’t brought it up for a reason. And although I had never cared enough about any woman not to cheat on her, my situation now was different.
My life had been in turmoil. An abusive situation, to foster care, to more abuse had been my journey. Through it all I’d learned to travel light and look out for myself. No matter where I was mentally the only constant was that school at first, then work, had been my refuge and I’d stayed out of trouble as best I could. I kept my grades up and in the fall of my senior year I’d applied to both Howard University’s and NYU’s film schools. I’d been accepted into Howard and thus landed in the nation’s capital.
On my own it had been a free-for-all. I’d left the poor, beaten, and battered Khalil behind and introduced everyone to a new me. The one who didn’t care about anyone other than himself, and what I found amazed me. Women loved it. The nonchalant attitude seemed to be an enigma, even a challenge that they stepped up to the plate to meet, one after the other.
I crushed them all. Even the nice ones, for reasons I couldn’t really understand at the time. That was until I met the girl who I believed was the one.
Now here I was, riding along with a stranger, playing the role of the Good Samaritan. In all actuality, I was captivated by hercharms. Still, I felt compelled to answer her
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