Shut Up, Just Drive!

A drive down to the beach becomes something sexually fulfilling.

The couple flung the door open and jumped into the backseat of my car like they were in a hurry and wanted to flee the scene. A black man in a t-shirt and jeans, and a blonde elegant-looking woman. They settled themselves comfortably, then the man tapped my shoulder and told me to drive.

Where to? I asked after starting my car.

Don’t worry about it, the man responded. Just shut up and drive. I’ll tell you where once we’re outta here.

Better do what he says, white boy, the woman advised, then chuckled at her humour.

Who was I to argue? I put the car into gear and cruised out of the neighbourhood.

The neighbourhood in question was some foreboding middle-class district situated downtown. It was populated with run-down homes, all-night liquor stores, and redbrick housing. I had parked across from a dark street that led to a nightclub, where the couple had exited from.

The time was 11:47 p.m. It was way past my bedtime.

The streets in this neighbourhood were dark and threatening. I drove two streets and finally breathed a sigh of relief when I cruised onto the freeway leading towards the city.