Small drive-through espresso stands dot the Washington freeway system. Usually they’re manned by young college students. I stop in every one I can afford, hungry for the opportunity to flirt; life in a one-man tent is understandably lonely.
”Woah, walking to Mexico? That’s crazy.”
”Yeah. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” I try to ask it fetchingly, ignoring both her wedding ring and the way I must look behind my scraggly beard.
”Promise you won’t put it on your blog?” She batted her eyelashes as she walked over to serve a drive-up customer.
She leaned back from the window and told me with a smile. It was all I thought about for the next 12 miles.