The Only Place To Sleep

 I did a bit of hitchhiking in my mid to late teens. It was the thing to do in those times. One particular time while hitchhiking to California, I wound up at a rest area, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, in pouring rain. My first thought for shelter was to hunker down under a picnic table, but apparently, some other hitchhiker had the same thought and beat me to it. With no other option for refuge from the rain, I reluctantly took to the floor in the men's restroom. In the far corner of the restroom, on the floor, by the door of the last stall. Thoughts of the countless things that could happen to me that would be a good premise of a good horror flick, but too tired to care, it didn't take me long top fall asleep. I don 't know how long I slept or what time it was but I remember waking up to someone using that last stall. I remember hearing the grunting sounds and the smell, but still worried he might be one of those weirdos you hear about when sitting around the campfire telling scary stories. I pretended to be asleep. It kept the boogie man away when I was a young child, maybe it will work again. It did.