Yesterday, while I was on my way to volunteer, I was stopped by an African man in a cab. He offered to give me a free cab ride to where I was going. So, not looking forward to the walk anyway, I agreed to get in the cab, but asked that he keep the door unlocked on my side. In the case that he pulled out a gun, I could leap out of passenger side and roll down the freeway.
Almost immediately after I plant my tush in the seat, he begins to go on and on about his love and fascination with big women- about how his aunt was big and she was so much fun. He went down memory lane, telling me about the good times he had trying to stuff his aunt into a girdle.
Since I got to the volunteer site early because duh, I didn't have to walk, I sat in a parking lot and talked to Solomon (a.k.a. Papa Africa). I found out that he is 40-years-old, has a 9-year-old daughter, and got a degree in Microbiology in Africa and, at one point, had his own school. Now he drives cabs in Atlanta due to some immigration stuff. He also talked about how he likes to have a good time and blah, blah, blah.
He is pretty cool. Confident. He asked me if I wanted to go out and, seeing how sad my bank account and refrigerator look, I agreed. I may just have a good time. I have to call and set up a dinner date. The sooner the better because I'm STARVING.
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