I'm speeding eastward on I-10, just over the Louisiana border. It's early
afternoon, sunny, and the diet soda I drank at lunch is having its effect. I
see the sign for the rest stop, it's one mile ahead. Good. When I see it, I
get in the right lane and slow down.
There are a number of trucks, both on the main ramp and in the truck parking
lot further from the road. Looking back down the interstate, I see a new one
lumber in. He has to park pretty far back. After a while, the driver gets out
and starts toward the men's room. As he gets closer I check him out. He's
about my size, dressed in blue work shirt and snug faded jeans.
As he disappears into the men's room I see his head whip back toward me
for an instant.
My eyes stay locked on the entranceway until he reappears. Sure enough, he's
looking to see if I'm still here. As he passes by again, his hand drops to
the bulge between his legs and touches it quickly. He does not slacken his
pace, but as I gaze after him he glances backward again.
I stare at him all the way back to his truck. As he climbs back in he looks
in my direction yet again. He shuts the door.
Then After a few minutes... Read More NOW inside the Truckstop...