Thursday, June 25, 2009

Mirage

We'd been trying for hours to hitch a ride on a ramp in the Mojave. Hot and dry, as befits a desert. No traffic. Finally a car.

The convertible pulled to a stop in front of us. Five football players, or frat boys, or Marines.

They looked at us, with our long hair, beards, backpacks.

We looked at them.

They looked at us some more and then each other. The driver nodded. A passenger nodded back, bent down in the backseat. He straightened, something in each hand.

Two beers. Sweating from the cold.

"Here," he said. Threw them both, I caught one and so did my friend.

"Thanks," I said.

The driver nodded again and they were gone.

5 comments:

Pinko Punko said...

Wow. Equally cool and kind of scary.

almostinfamous said...

did the beer taste good (beyond the first few sips i mean)

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

Beer bottles are clearly easier to catch (and safer) than baseballs.

Maybe someone should invent a sport called beerball?
~

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

thunderbeer has obviously never been to Wisconsin...

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I have been to Wisconsin!

When I was little, it was to visit family. But I was too young to join in the beer drinking.

Last time, it was for work. So no friends around, and no time for beer drinking (except back in the hotel at the end of the day, and beer was salty from the tears).

*sniff*
~