Hey Rd, the boss wants to see you!" "Oh shit! Hope I didn't do something wrong," I mumbled as I walked towards Ed's office. If you didn't catch it, my name is Rodney aka RD. I'm a 20 year old black man who recently lost his job at the office but also recently got hired at this limousine company. I'd always loved to drive and knew the roads like the back of my hand so it was sort of a no-brainer when I saw their wanted ad in the paper. Anyway, I got into Ed's office, hoping I hadn't committed some error that would get me fired. I'd only been working there 3 months, the pay was great, and like I said I just liked driving around. "RD, have a seat," Ed motioned. I sat in the small, uncomfortable wooden chair. Ed was what you probably are imagining: a pudgy/overweight Italian-esque guy leaning back in a leather armchair. "What did you want to see me about?" "I got a job for you but it's high end. I mean real high end." "How so?" I got excited. High end usually meant overtime pay and tips from rich passengers. "Now don't get excited. Lemme explain. He's a celebrity and as you know the music awards are tonight so that's where you're taking him." "Great! Who is he?" "You know the rapper Bluedot?" Did I know Bluedot? Who didn't?! He was the hottest new rapper on the scene. I listened to his music all the time, having bought all three of his albums. It was about time they gave him the big award for his hard work. "But why me? I've only been here three months." "Remember this. The driver and the client have to get along. Not only are you, well, cultured to be frank, but you're also one of the youngest drivers here. I figured you'd mesh better with him than one of those crabby old guys we out there, right?" he laughed "Sure, Ed. This is great." I thanked him, even thought I found the whole "well you're cultured " thing slightly offensive but I understood his logic. "Go home and get some rest for tonight. He's hired you to take him around until morning." I could barely contain my excitement. I was celebrating when I got back to my apartment, however, I promised myself that I wouldn't freak out when I met him. I couldn't let Ed down like that; he was counting on me to be professional. Plus, most celebs hated the fan freak out moments, at least that's what I'd heard. I woke up around 5pm and started getting ready. After my shower, I stood in front of the mirror admiring myself a bit. All my hard work in the gym was paying off. I finally got that nice washboard look to my abs, and my v-cut was showing more clearly than ever. My arms were bigger and stronger, and when I turned and flexed my shoulder muscles bulged. Now imagine all that combined with my smooth, chocolate skin and you won't hate me when I say that I was a pretty hot number. I'd gotten my hair cut earlier that day so it was edged up sharply, and my face was clean-shaven. That was enough self-admiration. Anymore and I would start running late. I put on my uniform: white inside shirt, black slacks and shoes, black Nehru jacket with a black cap to boot. I was looking pretty sharp. One last glance over and I was out the door. Tromping downstairs. Hopping in my car, and I was off. I arrived at the garage on time. The guys had the limo ready for me. It was a beauty. Shiny black with chrome accents perfectly polished. The dark gray inside impeccably clean and smelling fresh. With no time to lose, I took the wheel and rolled out, heading to Bluedot's mini mansion. It was a really nice place. It was a Spanish-style hacienda with red clay tile roof, whitewashed walls, a flag-stone paved courtyard complete with fountain, a small lawn, and trees lining the path to the front of the house. I circled round the fountain, stopping in front of the large patio. Some security guys approached as I stepped out. They asked me the whole 21 questions, including looking at my ID card and driver's license. Finally, they let Bluedot show his face. I knew he looked good in photos but he looked even better in person. He was just a bit shorter than me, and two years older, but his body was on point; toned, firm, and athletic, with smooth caramel-brown skin, baby dreads, and a thin mustache. He was dressed in blue jeans, high-cut sneakers, a gray wax-cotton jacket with black aviator shades perched atop his head. Why these guys wear shades out in the evening I'll never know. Point is, he was a hot looking guy. Oh yeah, I am gay, if you didn't figure it out yet. "Yo homie, sup?" he greeted, pulling me into a bro-hug. I was shocked at first but reciprocated cautiously. "Glad to see they sent a brotha and not some rap-fanatic white-boy." "Um, yeah...So, shall we get going?" "Sure, bruh. Let's roll out," he grinned, pulling the shades down over his eyes as he hopped into the back. "What's you name, homie?" he asked as we drove along. "RD." "What hood you rep?" "I don't rep any hood. I'm just a driver." "Aight, I respect that. No time to play gangster when you making real money, huh?" "That's how it is," I smiled, mimicking a line from one of his songs as I looked into the rear-view mirror to see his reaction. I couldn't help myself. "Oh, I see we have a fan," he grinned, "which of my songs is your favorite?" "Oh man, I got several..." The fan-boy in me burst the doors of professional restraint. I was rattling off songs and lyrics while he just listened, nodded and grinned. Eventually, he joined in on my monologue, and we ended up engrossed in a deep conversation about the direction hip-hop was going in and his plans for his next album. We were so engrossed I almost missed the turn. "Shit!" I hit the brakes and Bluedot flew forward, hitting his head against the seat pretty hard. "Muthafucka! You tryna kill me?!" "Sorry, man. It just-" "Don't call me man! It's Bluedot. We ain't friends! Just fuckin' drive!" So much for a fat tip at the end of the night. I had messed up big time by letting myself lose my focus. I just hoped he wouldn't report the incident to Ed. We arrived on time at the venue. The red carpet was laid out and lights from cameras were flashing non-stop. Bluedot slammed the door as he got out. Dude was still pissed. He looked like he was about to say something to me but then changed his mind. As he walked up the carpet his mood turned 180. He was all smiles for the cameras. Meanwhile, I felt like shit as I drove to park round back with the other chauffeurs.
