Eleven
Sssshhhh … Chardonnay
When the Lyft driver pulls up, I’m in the rain with just my suitcase and bag, hair dripping down my back, my mangled umbrella tossed post-tantrum into the unkempt flower bed along the front of Connor’s shitty building. I can’t believe I ever thought I’d be able to live in this dump.
Since the evening did not turn out as expected, I instruct the driver to drop me at the Fairmont. Maybe Benny the Cannabis Cowboy will be bar-side and generous with his stories and cocktails.
Traffic is light for a rainy Thursday night, and the driver is a young guy who doesn’t ask intrusive questions or offer knowing glances in the rearview mirror. At a stoplight, he quietly reaches over the front seats to hand me a box of tissue.
“Thank you.” I dab at the mascara scoring my c
