Point B just happens to be the strip club. If he had gone anywhere, I assume it was there. Matter of fact, I don’t even have a clue why he was at the nightclub in the first place, when he should have been at work instead.
As the cab pulls up to the entrance, I spot Brandon driving out of the parking lot in the opposite direction. Feeling downtrodden now, I sit there staring at the taillights of his car as he speeds down to the intersection. “Great, now what?” I say to myself while still in the cab.
The driver glances back at me insistently, and then asks, “Are you getting out? Or are we going somewhere else?”
Noting that it is closed, I check the time and realize that it is past midnight already. Sitting there, I decide where to go next and then state, “2297 E. Bellamy.” Before I sit
