do it.”His eyes bugged out, and his sideways mouth hung open.
For a second, I thought maybe he was having a stroke. But
then he snapped out of it:
Roscoe: “Fer reaaal? Fer reaaal, Tiff-a-Knee?”Tiffany: “Yeah Roscoe, let’s go out.”Roscoe: “Okay, oh my God, okay, aww right. Dis gonna
be great, Tiĉ-a-Knee! We’re gonna go to Hermosa
Beach, to da Hennessey’s, it’s gonna be the best date
evaaaa! We’ll catch da 217 bus, den get the crosstown,
then—”Tiffany: “Roscoe, I got my own car, I’ll pick you up.”He gave me his address and then ran out of work. I don’t
even think it was the end of his shift, he was just so excited
that he bolted out of the airport.
ͳe next evening, I pulled up to his place. I was thinking,
ͷis is a pretty big house, considering he’s handicapped and
works as a baggage handler. How is he aĉording this? Does he
live with his parents?
Nope. Turns out it’s one of those group homes for adults
with disabilities. And I am here to straight pick up this man
to go on a date. At a group home.
• • •