I go to eat. I visit our Amala place. Did my do and departed. Driving out, two ladies beckoned for a ride. Being a kind guy I stopped. I can swear on Yemoja that their revealing outfits had no impact on my decision. Nor did the fact that one was generously endowed influence me. I was being the kind man, my mother taught me to be. My father had also imbibed in me the “damsel in distress” thinking.
They both get in. One in front and the other in the rear. I did not engage in small talk. Then one answered a call in the car. Out of courtesy I reduced the volume. The one in the rear.
I kept on driving and she kept shouting into her phone. At some point she tapped my shoulders, then gestured that I reduce the volume more.
That’s when I just found a place to park. Politely asked both to come down.
Is it that I resemble Uber? Enter my car and turned up my music again. I saw them give my car the high five. The one you use to greet people’s mother.
My conscience was clear as I drove off.
