raising his fist to his lips, blondyn bit out a piece of the gold, that Namaste had punched into bone. he chewed, swallowed, he thought on the lifestyle that had brought Namaste up.
Namaste from Somalia. grew up ‘mongst pirates, was one the best of the them,, til one day, sword in hand, he jumped aboard a merchant ship, saw cannons saw captains saw American Flags— right away negotiated to sign on deck.
“new adventure!” he shouted to all his friends. "Namaste!“
pirates took it to heart. (those were his bros) but wished Namaste the very best.
"Namaste!”, they said.
Aboard the Destroyer, Namaste got promoted fast and before he knew, was a certified scooba diver, suited up 'n plunking into waters with a 300 pound oxygen tank. brought him way way down through Great White Shark infested trenches. one day, he landed upon a chest. yep. treasure. he got first dibs on the loot, then brought it all back to the tribe, chief was stoked.
“I’m going to NYC,” explained Namaste, “More adventure.”
chief gave blessing, Namaste flyed Virgin, now he’s a native New Yorker, working for Uber— American Dream? why not.
Between greetings, Namaste is usually doing his Uber App Thing. He has 3 smartphones, and it seems he’s always on all 3, organizing deliveries across Manhattan Plains.
“my Man…” said blondyn, pointing on the window. “beautiful riding weather today.”
Namaste nodded respek.
“Good weather, good ride,“ said Namaste, plugging in his 20 lb. Lithum-Ion Cartridge that shot his bike with Turbo Charge. “You get the Uber yet?”
The App. Namaste loved Uber; mystery of the delivery. He wanted everyone to their hunk of the love.
“Namaste, we’ve been over this…”
He shook his head like blondyn’d done mischief.
“if you’ve got something coming, we’ll face it one on one…”
Namaste pulls out his phone. Swipes. Turns serious then resolved.
blondyn nods, checking on the battery he’d just plugged in.
“You got enough charge?”
Unplugged the battery, turned to me.
“Today, we pedal,” he said, “I’ll see you here later?”
“be here all day.”
Namaste raised his fist. blondyn connected. boo-ya-ka-sha, he thought. two connects within 5 min.
Namaste walked out.
blondyn returned to the screen. checked his OS To Do List—
-write -write -write
'time to get to work.”
blondyn checked his WhatsApp. uh oh. Mama—
“in the building.”
blondyn’d forgotten he’d had a date. she’d arrive. there.