Can I get a ride?
in your convertible. its almost 8 am and I ask the two guys sitting in the convertible almost outside the house I'm staying in on Martel. They are Jewish, I ask if they are going to Pico. I'm on my way to a bris I tell them. The driver keeps on flipping through the radio channels. In one song
its where my demons hide ...don't want to let you down...hide the truth
He moves through the line of traffic driving on the right and whizzes by other cars. I am grateful for the scarf I have wrapped around my neck and put over my hair. He drops me off by his friends school. I climb out and walk down the dirty sidewalks of Pico. At the bris, I see the driver.
I admit I can be overly trusting, AND sometimes you just gotta ask so you can get where you need to go.