I sat on that guardrail, at the edge of Las Vegas, New Mexico and tried to get a ride out of town. But no one stopped.
Finally, late in the day, I threw in the travel towel and accepted the fact that I was not going to get out
that day. The problem was...where would I spend the night?
There were three drunks (all male) who lived under a bridge, nearby. They ended up being my saving
I sat down on the concrete by the ramp and chatted with them. They gave me a sleeping bag to use, a couple of cheese and baloney sandwiches and a bottle of water. I gave them four triple "A" batteries
that they needed and several hours of my singing voice.
We sang underneath the moon as they slammed cans of Bud Lite back and the night finally passed.
The next day, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed my hair and packed my gear.
I walked back up to the ramp and sat down. It was cool and quiet in that early hour of the morning. And I was determined to get a ride out of Las Vegas. That day.
I finally did.
A young man, in a zippy little car, was pulled over right in front of me, by a New Mexico
State cop. I smiled at the young driver and he smiled back. I shrugged my shoulders as the
cop got out of his rig and the young man shrugged back.
The cop eyed both of us and asked me, "You know this guy?"
"Not yet" I replied, with a grin.
The cop put the driver through the standard "license and registration" process and then I
asked the young man if he would give me a ride.
"Sure" he replied with a smile.
And a few minutes later, he and I left Las Vegas, New Mexico behind in its own dust.