HITCHING A RIDE

We’re standing along side the road, thumbs extended—wishing we were two pretty girls with nice hair and nice legs, asses hanging out of our hot pants.

But we’re not.

We’re two guys hitching a ride.

Holding a silly sign and grinning like fools.

People smile and wave—assholes—and I can tell Robert is enjoying this.

So am I.

An hour later we’re picked up by an old couple—aging Brits, ex-hippies no doubt—and spend the next three hours cramped in back with our packs in our laps, starring out the window…