A psychotic kidnapper with a gun. A blindfolded ride to a ruthless drug dealer’s compound. Torture. A slow death. These were the things that were awaiting me while I worked the evening shift of what was sure to be my last day on earth.
Then, he came in for dinner.
He had a loud Harley-Davidson, a dry sense of humor, a contagious laugh, and seven friends.
All he wanted was an enchilada dinner.
But. He was my only hope.
So, I handed him his meal, gestured to the parking lot, and told him my story.
As he sauntered toward the parking lot no differently that he would have walked into a bar, I wondered just who this man could be.
Finding the answer to that question wasn’t as easy as a person might think.
But it was the best ride of my life.
Then, he came in for dinner.
He had a loud Harley-Davidson, a dry sense of humor, a contagious laugh, and seven friends.
All he wanted was an enchilada dinner.
But. He was my only hope.
So, I handed him his meal, gestured to the parking lot, and told him my story.
As he sauntered toward the parking lot no differently that he would have walked into a bar, I wondered just who this man could be.
Finding the answer to that question wasn’t as easy as a person might think.
But it was the best ride of my life.
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