My head is wedged between the leather seat and the PPG glass when out of the distant fog of deep sleep the glass begins to bang my head with a repeating, Rump ...Rump... Rump. It’s strange hearing the sound of the rumple strips at 1 am when you are normally asleep in a comfortable bed.
It’s not quite a thunderous jolt but it takes me a while to get my bearings. The cool a/c has been blowing relentlessly for 9 hours we’re somewhere near the Maryland Virginia state line.
Suddenly the wind roars into the car with a swirling whoosh of humidly that it reminds me, it’s still early August.
I open my eyes briefly, the car is slowing. I don’t raise my head and only open my eyes long enough to see that the EZ Pass lanes are all clear and the Correct Change Only sign and welcoming green lights of a toll plaza. The car slows and the humid air eases its attack.
The hum of the florescent lights fill the air like a refrigerator gone bad, as the bright light engulfs the recently dark interior the car comes to a near stop. The sound of coins hitting the mark, the machine made ding and recorded “thank you” echoes repeating again again all night long through out the steel and concrete structure.
The red stop light dims as the green light below is switched on, its lens embossed with the words THANK YOU. It strikes me as odd that the green light doesn't say GO, since the red lens says STOP and not PAY UP!
The fog of riding shotgun makes your mind wander, sometimes a little too much.
The car accelerates and I’m pressed back into my seat, I close my eyes and the cool chill of the a/c blows steady once again. I’m on the endless road trip of life and best thing is the gentle touch of the hand that belongs to the girl who loves to drive at night. A touch that says everything is all right.
I start to drift off to sleep again thinking, life is pretty good.