Taped right next to the steering wheel was a small, laminated note. It read: "To my riders: I lost my son 3 days ago. If I speak, I will cry. I need to keep driving to afford his funeral. Please just let me drive you in silence. I am sorry."
My heart completely dropped. I sat there in the back seat, holding back tears, realizing this man was trapped in a moving metal box trying to survive the worst week of his life just to pay a bill. When we arrived, I didn't say a word. I just tipped him the maximum amount possible on the app and walked away. We really have no idea what the stranger next to us is carrying.
This lovely Thursday evening, Im posting a pic of my bottom!! From the bottom of my heart.....thanks so much to all of my 10k followers! I hope I continue to draw your attention for years to come. 🫦💣❤️🔥 #GILF#MILF#throwbackpic#thursday
“Those blue eyes are dangerous, that smile is addictive and her energy is pure trouble 🔥”
Credit:@AngelGrave8
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Every single time I see a 19-24 year old girl moving in with her boyfriend to ‘escape’ a toxic home, I sob for her.
Like actually cry.
Because 9 times out of 10… she just traded one nightmare for a worse one.
The boyfriend who “rescues” her usually becomes the new cage. Different face, same (or heavier) control.
Please protect these young girls. The grass isn’t greener — it’s just a different patch of dirt. 💔