DRIVE SLOW

Atlanta was huge and spread out. Its sprawling nature wasn’t something Sigrid or I were used to. The absence of water made it hard for us both to find our bearings. The studio was in Bankhead or was it Buckhead? And where the fuck were the SWATS? Buckhead kind of reminded me of the Garden District, but not really.

“New Orleans is a half circle, right?”

“Mmmm, more like a crescent.”

We met Bank$ at a gas station while we were asking for directions to the Lennox Mall. Sigrid wanted to go shopping before her ex-boyfriend cancelled her credit card. Bank$’ Mercedes with its black, on black, on black, tint, paint, and rims pulled in behind us. I liked the way it sat there amongst the old money that surrounded it. When Bank$ stepped out of the car, I smiled, like I knew him. His was one of the few familiar faces I had seen in Atlanta.

 I had all four of Bank$’ albums. From when he was still independent to his latest, which was the soundtrack to the new movie he was starring in. It felt like a big deal to just see him out pumping gas, and regular all at the same time.  He smiled back. First at Sigrid. Then at me. He was tall and slim and muscular. His teeth and his Caesar- haircut were fucking perfect.

“Where y’all from, shorty?” he said to me. “Not here, right?”

“That easy to tell?” 

“Yeah, real easy. Hungry? Me and my boy going to Benihana. Just park your car. The white folks won’t bother it.” Bank$ winked at Sigrid and she had to laugh.

This would make El way angrier than a credit card bill, she whispered once we were getting in the car with Bank$. The inside of his car smelled sharp and new. Sigrid sat in the backseat and made small talk with Bank$’ friend. Bank$ was close enough to smell. Like kush, and orange-peelings.

I inhaled. Nothing made sense and I didn’t try to force it. Home was awash. Corey was dead and I was riding through Georgia with a rapper, I listened to everyday for the last ten years. On the restaurant floor our waiter threw the shrimp high into the air and caught it with a flourish. Bank$’ friend, Mikhel seemed amazed by Sigrid’s accent and her breasts and she was happy to oblige him. Meanwhile, Bank$ and I talked. 

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Really?”

“Nah, I guess you right. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m just mad they left y’all out there like that.”

“Me too.”

“You two gonna come back out tonight, right?” Bank$ asked, as he ordered more food and sake. “Don’t worry about gas, you feel me. Come chill at the studio.” 

I wasn’t driving, but I didn’t even have to ask to say yes.