“Whew.” He laughed out loud as his cab came to a jerking halt again. If we didn’t get too far, then maybe I wouldn’t have to walk too long once he put me out for not having any money. He kept talking and chuckling.

“I wouldn’t a never thought you was no twenty. But you know, these girls look so old nowadays that I done forgot what a thirteen-year-old one supposed to look like in the first place.”

How come every time somebody just wants to be quiet and cry, there’s somebody around who won’t shut up so they can do it? But I guess it was his cab …

“You comin’ from your boyfriend’s?”

“No.”

“You gotta boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I got one.” So old ass Negro old enough to be my granddaddy don’t even start.

“You goin’ to him then?”

“Yep. He waitin’ on me right now.”

“Well, where he stay?”

“Up on Halsted …” I could feel the salty snot clumping in back of my throat while my eyes ran. I didn’t have any tissues so I just used my wrist and let whatever came on dry.

“Where at on Halsted? See, I’m off… you gone be my last fare so I ain’t trying to go too far from the depot. I been working since eight o’clock this morning. Been up to O’Hare, took a fare to Harvey …”

I was shuddering, staring out of the window, squeezing myself tight, and just now feeling Nakesha’s hard pinch on both my arms through my own fingers that grasped my arms tight.

“… I dropped some folks off at the United Center for the Bulls game. Matter fact, let me turn on the game ’cause it should be ’bout over by now. You been to the United Center? Boy, that traffic was somethin’ else. Cars backed up all down Washington. Wasn’t nothing but headlights and Negroes wearing red and black for blocks. Been back out down south since ’bout seven though. Gotta couple calls came through on the radio. See, that’s what I like. Old folks or women going shopping call you up on the South Side just to take ’em ’round the South Side. Now see, I likes that. Point A to point B without all the confusion and a long ride home. You go downtown and you got stress, traffic. White folks either running late and acting like it’s yo’ fault, or keep changing they mind about where they wanna go in the first damn place. Just itching for a reason to gyp you by claiming you gypping them. Oh, we movin’ again now, miss. You ’bout ready to tell me where you goin’? Miss? Miss? Hey, you alright, miss …?”

I guess the middle of a crying fit was as good a time as ever to confess I was broke.