Andy In Love

Andy was in his early twenties, when we met. It was late spring, and he’d been on the road for three days from Barstow, California. I’d found him standing on a ramp to I-70, outside Denver, with his thumb in the air. Destination: Topeka, Kansas.

“What’s in Topeka?”, I asked. I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised me when he said, “My dream girl.”

Well, what do you know? Love on the blacktop. He showed me a photo, on his phone. She looked to be about his age, brunette, with a round face, dark eyes and pretty smile.

They’d met online, and had been chatting via Skype for a couple of months. After a while, they’d decided that he should make the trip. Of course, they were both broke, so here he was, dirty and hungry, and happy as a fly on a cow patty; two days away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When we got to my exit, he got out, smiling. He was a little closer to his Dream Girl. I gave him five bucks and wished that I could be there to see that first real kiss.

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