Rendezvous

I looked at my phone: 2 AM. I threw on gym shorts and a hoodie, because I knew I didn't have to get dressed up to impress you. I headed downstairs, got in my car, and silently took to the road. The streets were empty as I turned one corner after another, until finally I rolled up the familiar drive, noticing your lights were still on. Success. 

The interaction was brief: I said what I needed to say, and money was exchanged before I again drove off through the night. I raced home a little faster than I should have, running red lights as anticipation built in my chest. 

I got home, threw my hoodie on a chair, and collapsed onto the couch. I gingerly unwrapped the paper and admired my Cheesy Gordita Crunch before devouring it. I love you, Taco Bell.