From the time I was little, my mother would tell me stroies of brave nights in shinning armor. These night would do anything for the princess, there Kingdome, and there honor. I used to dream of being swept away by a handsome man as Noble as this. but those were just dreams and this is not the thirteen-hundreds.
No, unfortunately this is New Orleans in the year 2017. Drunks and Assholes walk the streets day and night and the smell of cheep whisky and greasy food fill the air. The drug Lord's supply the drug dealers and the drug dealers supply the addicts. Prostitutes walk the streets to warm your lonely beds for a price and the upper class and lower class all stay separate. Tourist fill the streets day and night with there stupid questions and stupid cameras. like there's anything great about this city; like there ever was.
As I'm walking down the street to my favorite pastry bakery I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket. I reached and grabbed my phone from my old tourn jeans and turned it on.
"gonna be late babe. start with out me.đ" Jake texted.
Jake was my only friend in this city and if it weren't for the fact that he was only interested in the same package he had, we would probably be daiting. or so I told myself to keep my self esteem up. We meet when I took a beginners art class when I first came to New Orleans. He was an ass to the instructor. I felt bad for her but those shoes really didn't go with those ear rings. We just kind of clicked from there.
All of a sudden I feel my purse strap snap and fall. I look up from my phone to find a tall, skinny, white dude with a green hoody on running away with my purse.
"Hey!" "Give me back my fucking purse" I start sprinting twords this ass hat with the long fucking chicken legs. with adreanalin running threw my vains all I can think as I'm chasing this man is. [ This fucking city]
About a mile laiter I'm about to catch the guy. Then out of no where I see an arm come up and cloths line the dude who is running with my purse who then drops like a hot potato. I urge my body to go just a few more steps and as I approach I see the man who stopped the chicken leg guy, bend down and grab my purse. [ oh fuck, seriously? again! ] but I look closer and this guy is different. he's wearing a white shirt with the colour open and long cakie pants with nice brown leather shoes. And the best part; he's not taking off with my purse.
I realise I have lost my self in my train of thought and am still running twords this guy. and yep it's too late I'm going to run right into him.
As we collide the man's hand Swiftly wraps around my waist and grabs behind the top of my shoulders to brace me. Instead of falling on me, he holds his ground firm. [ huh, strong guy. ]. He is now dipping me in the middle of this street crowded with watching tourist .
He looked at me and before sitting me back up right and says in a deep, calm voice, "Hello, I believe this is yours."