Travel Chronicles Act I

Laguardia Airport. There’s a Spanish lady white shirt, black pants, sensible black shoes. She’s driving a Toyota SUV. She’ll get you to wherever you’re going. It’s going to cost you $75. She doesn’t give a solitary fuck if you take her up on this offer. 

Her face says “Don’t give me no shit. Take it or leave it. The price is the price.” 

She’s appealed to a woman who follows behind her like a puppy waiting for her to get enough riders to make this trip worthwhile. The group of Asian ladies are not here for this lady, her brash demeanor, and they’re really not here for the $75 a piece. $75 times 5? No.

There’s a guy. White. Black suit, white shirt, leather computer bag. Typical New York business man. He’s not here for her shit but he needs a ride. 

“Sir, it’s gonna be an hour ride. I’ll get you there. You wanna go or Not?” She pauses in her steps barely momentarily as she allows him to make up his mind. She has shit to do. He follows. They leave. 

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