”“I don’t give a fuck,” the well-toned man said, lip locking with her once more, knowing he was packing heat. “Better to get pissed off than...pissed on. I ain’t worried bout no muthafuckas up here.” Earlier in the day, unbeknownst to Harriett and Gerald, the following conversation had taken place.“You ready,” the average height d**g dealer said into a pre-paid cell phone.“Yes, daddy,” replied the silky soft voice.“That’s what’s up, the chocolate brother with three gold teeth and seven tattoos. Would they be wearing panties, thongs? Or perhaps even nothing.But then suddenly the show was over. They picked what appeared to be their tickets from their purses and sat down on the beds. One on either side. I kept peeking for a while but then sleep came over me again and I dozed off.I awoke when somebody knocked on the door. It was the conductor to check their tickets. He must have remembered he had already checked mine because he didn't even look up at my bed. Perhaps he thought I was. More

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