My Uber driver app pinged. It showed a ride only 3 minutes away.
Awesome, I thought, and tapped the app to accept the ride. Once I did, the map of where to pick up the ride popped up, and I glanced at the location. Shit! If that wasn't bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all as that old Hee Haw tune went. The map showed that I would be going to an address that I swore I would never visit again. I could hit cancel. I kept driving toward the destination, however. When I pulled into the housing edition, I almost went to the left rather than the right where the road immediately split. Guess my subconscious, or maybe even God, was trying to tell me something. I stopped, checked the rear view, backed up, and pulled down the street to the right. The street meandered as a lazy winding road past middle-class one- and two-story houses from the early 1970s. Most of the single story ranches and double story Brady Bunch/Mods were decently maintained. I came to the end of the street at the cul-de-sac. I parked along the side of the circle and got out looking at the mailboxes for house numbers. His was 19. Aw, there it was! How could I have forgotten it. Set in the right corner of the cul-de-sac was the dirty mustard-colored single story mod house. The yard was over-grown and the broke down Volvo station wagon sat on cracked, weed-infested driveway. It was obvious the Volvo had not moved in a decade or so. Surprisingly, it seemed none of the neighbors had called the city to complained or it would have been towed away a long time ago. I walked up the driveway and two girls in next-to-nothing two piece swim suits stood out on the front porch peering around the corner. "Hey there," I called as I walked up so I wouldn't make them jump. I could tell that if I didn't they would have never noticed my arrival until I was right up behind them so intent were they on seeing what was going on in the side yard, if you could call it that. It looked more like a cross between an overgrown vegetable garden with dead corn stalks and your crazy grandma's sunflower garden with 8 foot tall sunflowers nodding in the wind. Both turned around. Yep, his standard--young, college girls with still the hint of innocence in their wide eyes and youthful prettiness. And both were hold a small dog a piece. The blonde had a pug, and the brunette had a shih tzu. "Is he here?" I queried. "He says he looking for El Dorado," the brunette replied and motioned towards the side yard.
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