The man extended his very large hand toward her. “Good to meetcha Aria, my name’s Kendrik.”

Aria stared at the purple of his palms when she shook his hand. “Are you friends with Imani?” she asked.

“Ah yeah. I known Imani for a long, long time. She’s a good woman, definitely a good woman.”

“Do you have a job or why do you come eat here?” Aria asked.

Kendrik laughed at the bluntness of her obvious insult. “You think just ’cause I’m black that I ain’t got a job?”

Aria hadn’t even realized her question could be misinterpreted in that way. “No, shit, that’s not what I meant. I mean no one comes to eat at these kinds of places unless there’s some kind of story … Like, I don’t have a place to live or a job, for example.”

“I could have a job. I’m just lyin’ low for a while. Plus I’m on probation.”

“On probation for what?” Aria’s bluntness got the better of her again.

Kendrik cracked a one-sided smile, amused by the lack of social sense inherent in her question. “Nothin’ big, just stealin’ some stuff. What about you, Little Miss Thing, shouldn’t you be in school or somethin’?” He asked the question as a friendly strike-back.

“I already graduated,” Aria responded.

Kendrik cocked one of his eyebrows in doubt. “OK, whatever you say.”

She felt bad for lying to him, especially seeing as Kendrik seemed obviously the last person on earth who would ever turn her in.

Kendrik’s phone rang in his pocket. When he answered it, he turned slightly away from Aria. “Baby, your brother ain’t gonna do shit cause he broke. Baby, you know nobody got it worse than he do … No, I gotta wait ’til I get off work … OK, love ya baby.”

Aria tried to interpret his conversation through his short, one-sided replies. “That’s my girlfriend,” he said, putting the phone back into his pocket. “You got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, actually. We haven’t been together very long, but …”

“You got nothin’ else to do but tell me about ’im,” Kendrik said, prying further.

“Well, he’s Indian …” Aria began and was stopped.

“Wait, you mean like an Indian Indian or like one of them cowboys and Indians types?” he asked.

“Like an Indian Indian.”

Her response made Kendrik erupt in laughter. “I did not see that comin’ … OK, so he’s an Indian Indian. What else?”

“He’s in college, studying to be an engineer,” Aria replied.

Again, Kendrik erupted in laughter. “Oh my God, you just pickin’ the low-hangin’ fruit, ain’tcha?”

Though the humor of the stereotype of an Indian boy being in engineering school was not lost on Aria, she didn’t laugh with him.