Cinco De Mayo, or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, #2

Author's Note: I won't bore you with all that happened this weekend that kept me from logging on to post. I did write a bit, but not enough to be worth adding. I am forgiving myself for not fulfilling my goal this weekend of posting every day. Today is a new day. Here is your next installment to the story. Please see the post from May 5, 2011 to read the first part of the story. Enjoy!

Continued from May 5th Blog Post "Cinco De Mayo, or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"

Cristina reappeared at the backdoor, waving an empty bottle of tequila in front of her like she was performing some sort of voodoo curse, which was not entirely improbable for the New Orleans native.

“I thought you said, ‘Come over and we’ll celebrate Cinco De Mayo’ Lu! It’s only six. How can we pretend to celebrate without the necessary ingredients?”

“I thought there were two more bottles in the cabinet!” Lulu rose to accompany Cristina inside. Seconds later they both slunk back out.

“Well, that settles it! Guess we’re going for a tequila run.” Cristina slanted her eyes towards Lulu, who had the grace to at least appear sheepish.

Twenty minutes later, all four women stood at the curb in front of Lulu’s house, watching the cab they’d called pull up. It was already ten minutes late.

“You beautiful ladies called for cab, yes?” The cab driver looked to be at least eighty-five, with long, bushy white eyebrows, a gray fedora perched just above them. He exited the cab, and walked with such stilted steps towards the back door that Anna fell into step beside him, thinking he was going to keel over right there. He stooped, slow and stiff, to open the cab door, and ushered them inside. They watched as he made his way back around the cab with more shuffling and wobbling.

“Think Grandpa here can see the steering controls?” Cristina asked, only half joking.

Lulu gave her unsure-but-game smile and brushed her blond hair behind her ears. “He’s just a bit sluggish, guys. It’s fine.” But she scooted closer to Anna so they could share a seat belt.

“Uh huh. I have a feeling we’re about to find out just how slow he is.” Cristina clicked her seatbelt and pulled it tight across her chest.

Anna gave the driver their destination, the grocery store a few miles away.

“You sit back. Enjoy ride.” The driver spoke with a thick Greek accent, and winked at them before pulling back onto the road. Cristina glared at him through the rear view mirror as he sped down the road at a neck-breaking speed of ten miles below the speed limit.

“It’s going to cost us more in cab fare to get there than the actual alcohol will!”

“Cristina, have you decided yet if you’re going to come to South America with us this winter? You’re the only one left who hasn’t decided.” Anna, with the diplomacy of one well versed in defusing her friend’s fiery temper, talked about the itinerary of the trip, and the various details still to be decided.

As they debated on the number of days that should be spent basking on white sandy beaches with tropical drinks being delivered to them by hot Latin waiters, and the number of days spent exploring the rainforest and zip lining, Lulu’s neighborhood disappeared behind them, and they pulled onto the main thoroughfare. It wasn’t until the discussion turned to whether they’d attempt to rent a car while down there that Anna looked out the window.

“Um, this isn’t Johnson Blvd. Where are we?” All four women swiftly peered out of the passenger windows.

“We’re on Doolittle,” Vivian stated, with her forehead pressed against the glass. “Hey, sir, why are you driving on Doolittle? You’re going the complete opposite direction of where we should be going! Sir? Sir!” 

Suddenly, the cab swerved, screeching as it sideswiped a row of parked cars. The screeching seemed to last forever as they were still traveling at a snail’s pace, and the screams inside the car matched the screeching metal outside with uncanny precision.

Anna lunged forward and tugged on the driver’s shoulder, and he fell back against his seat, a peaceful snore fluttering the old man’s long white mustache.


To be continued...