The sun sets just behind San Francisco and the brown boys in the car next to me rattle their car with Miguel and e 40 and drake romantically while they hotbox with a thin joint. They have white boy laughs and old men’s lungs. There is a woman in an eddie bouer suv on the other side of me but I try not to look at her. She’s smoking a blunt alone, and unlike me and the other boys, she isn’t taking photos of the beautiful insta worthy vistas. She’s sitting, watching her blunt burn, and hearing the gently crashing waves. I play sade for her and she sways slowly, i move slower.
about three minutes from now she’ll get out of her car and walk towards me, knock on my window and offer me her blunt. i’ll say no thank you and compliment her nails which are gold and worn short. she’ll tell me i have pretty eyes and i’ll say i get them from my grandmother. and we find the end of our time together in a short pause looking into each others eyes. and we’ll say our goodbyes through a joke at the boys’ expense who are now outside of their car, shirtless, dancing.