Trapped Off

It was a typical fresh crisp Monday morning on February 5, 1998, after doing my routinely five-mile run, as I rushed into Starbucks, for my favorite cappuccino, topped with whip cream is a reward to myself, besides I just ran five miles, working off the calories before they are put on. Approaching the exit of Starbucks, glancing over to my right, from my peripheral view, noticing a black Bugatti emerging the store parking lot, watching his suicide doors opening, getting out is a tall, handsome, smooth chocolate, entrepreneur. Shockingly stuck in my path, eyeballing him as he enters the shop, swiftly walking by me, reeking the scent of My Burberry black cologne, as it dances into my nostril, straight to my sinus cavities, puts me in a trance, snapping back into reality with the ringing of my phone, noticing it was my girl, my A1 since day 1, Meme. Beginning to walk out the door, Excitedly, she screams, GIRLFRIEND! we got an invitation to a Ballers Valentine Day party in New York City, therefore we got some shopping to do! Ok, I agree, but girl its 6 o'clock in the am, it's too early for you to be making plans for us to get into something. She says that's why I'm telling you ahead of time, that's why it's called pre-plan hunni! Alright, bet we need a vacation anyway.