“They were shooting on my street last night,” said my Lyft passenger into her phone. Her sister was on the other end of the call. We drove to a notorious West Side neighborhood, one of the red zones on the Chicago violent crime map.
After a pause where her sister spoke, my passenger said, “No! On my street! Bullets were everywhere! They were crazy shooting right in front of my house!”
Great, I thought, our destination was that very home right now.
“I need to move!” the woman told her sister. Who could disagree?
The woman talked on with her sister; her teenage son stoically sitting next to her in the backseat. I engaged in the smallest of small talk because she was busy. Yet, when she exited the car, she paused to ask me, “Are you with anyone tonight?”
What? Was she asking what I thought?
I had many more rides planned so I opted against parking on the street where bullets flew to be with a total stranger. “Sorry, I have to keep driving.” Awkward!
Milwaukee Avenue 