QUOTE : A traffic cop was monitoring the drop-off line, waving cars on if they stood too long. Dreadlock Guy got in his car to leave, but not before rolling down his passenger-side window and beckoning me over. <br /><br />“What you leave behind?” he wanted to know, his Jamaican accent lilting. <br /><br />“Wedding dress.” It came out barely above a whisper. “And his computer. And luggage.” <br /><br />He shook his head with a smile, his dreaded ponytail smacking each shoulder, back and forth. “Clothing is easily replaced. Computers, you can back up the data. Insurance covers what you lose.”<br /><br /> I looked at him expectantly, figuring that at any moment, he’d utter “Don’t worry, be happy.” Say it and I’ll pull you out your car window by your dreads and put the hurt on you.<br /><br /> “But a kiss like that , miss—” He clucked his tongue. “Irreplaceable. Don’t let that go the other way.” It took me a moment to process his last words, as they came out “gowdee otterway.” But as he put the car in reverse and backed up in order to swing around the shuttle parked infront of him, it sank in.