It was four in the morning, my friend and I were driving through endless towns on our way to San Francisco. We had been crashing in my car the last 3 nights and at the start of our third day of driving I had only one condition.
“Wherever we end up tonight, it has to have showers.”
My friend had begun making phone calls that afternoon. But it was a home game in San Francisco and everything was booked solid. It looked like another night of restless sleep in the car, and even worse, no shower.
Suddenly fate intervened. We drove past a sign that read “RV Park, laundry and showers.” I didn’t hesitate. Grabbing our towels we stole like thieves across the RV Park, giggling quietly. I took the longest shower of my life that night, terrified of being caught breaking in yet reveling in my rebellion.
