Red light ready.
No, not the district. Well…not quite.
For most Los Angelenos an open city street,
a green at every light you meet,
these two things –
make for a Sunday evening treat.
Unless, of course, you’re trying to reignite the back ‘n’ forth you began earlier that morning. The first contact you’ve had with the man, yes man, 35+-year-old MAN, whom you met five days prior. An exchange you’re as eager to revisit as you are staunchly opposed to texting whilst driving.
What’s a brother (to two sisters, relax people) gotta do to get a red light up in HURR? You ain’t doin’ me no favor, fate – or civil engineers. It’s definitely my move…riiight? RIGHT.
He texted, I texted.
I texted, he texted.
I texted, he texted, I texted.
He texted, he texted, I texted, I texted.
He texted, I texted, he sexted, I requested –
a date.
Yes, a date. He don’t get somethin’ for nothin’. Sheesh. What do you, and he, take me for?
Lmao. cute cute.