Last night was…fun. Left Colorado behind like a bad habit. It treated me well despite the rain, bumpy roads, and 30mph work zones.
So, I get to Kansas, it’s late. The GPS is telling me it’s 3 more hours to my destination. Ugh. I decide to go on for another hour, if only to shave off an hour for tomorrow’s journey. I pull into a rest area outside Colby to put my ear plugs back in. I totally forgot to do that back at the McDonalds earlier. I wasn’t going to mention my delicious double cheeseburger, fries, and a latte, but there you go.
Anyway, I have just taken off my helmet when a white mustang tears into the lot. A big black guy leaps out of the vehicle. He’s HUGE. He’s coming right for me! “Please tell me we’re in fucking Kansas!” I say, fuck yeah we are! He’s heading to Cincinnati and shakes his head when I say New York. I’ve been getting that reaction a lot lately.
Right next to me there’s a shitty old camper, all its windows are open. It’s dark in there, but I can smell cigarettes and I can hear shuffling. All of a sudden a barefoot, shirtless tattooed guy, in coolats, bolts out of the rest room towards me and then into right into the camper. What’s with people charging at me in Kansas? I go into the restroom and it stinks like man on man sex in there! Looks like I just missed out on the “party”.
Back at the bike, I’m checking my Facebook on the iPhone. Someone whispers “hot bike…” I turn around. No one there. “How’s that handle on the freeway?” Fuck! I look to the camper. I see a silhouette if a guy, the end of his cigarette glowing. He leans out a bit, it’s the barefoot tattooed guy that was in a hurry to get out of the restroom. He’s talking real low, I have to step closer to hear him. I believe he intends to lure me into his camper and murder me…or beg for change. Can’t be sure which. “I used to have a Ninja bike, but my mom was scared and do I sold it.” Bummer for you…and I made my exit.