He could hear nothing but the click after click of his pumps as hewalked down the dark alley, almost happy to turn the corner to a streetwith some traffic. He tried avoiding eye contact as he walked, graspingthe shoulder strap of his purse with his right hand and concentrating onbalancing in his shoes. He walked two blocks before he noticed a whitesedan make a u-turn, and heard its loud rap music blasting, as suddenlyhe looked to his left, seeing the car rolling slowly next to him."What's up chiccckka?" said a voice. "You need a lift?" No, thank you," said Marc in his mousiest voice, giving a quick aglance."You lost or new around here?" said the man. "I don't bite. Come on, letme give you a ride. Where you headed girl?" No, I'm fine thanks," said Marc, avoiding eye contact.Marc felt a momentary sense of relief as the car sped away, only to seeit pull over about a 100 feet ahead. He felt an immediate shiver as heknew he was going to have a problem as he watched the driver get out. That was Liz Larimer driving. I fucking told you!”“We are totally not behaving ourselves!” one of them noted ... to the apparent pleasure of everyone around him.“That’s between you and the local cops,” I said. “Just do everyone a favor and don’t drive tonight. OK?”One of them ... the largest ... looked at the keys already in his hand and then at me. I didn’t want a fist-fight in the lobby of one of San Diego’s finest hotels.“Just a piece of friendly advice,” I said. “Don’t want you hurting anyone ... not yourselves or someone else.”“No, man, I get it,” the guy said. The doorman had walked out behind them. This wasn’t the type of crowd that frequented the bar, I would imagine. He wasn’t happy at the situation at all.“Tell you folks what,” I said, gesturing to the doorman. “Why don’t we let our friend here call you a cab? I’ll spring for it to make sure you get home safely.”The doorman tilted his head at me. I doubted he recognized me. I handed over $50 – all the money I had in my.
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