i listened to jose gonzalez on the way out of town.
for the first time in my life, while leaving, i felt lost in the bay area as i neared the bridge on 80, heading toward Sacramento. i just didn't remember that bridge. i kept thinking that since i'd been wiping tears for twenty minutes... i could have accidentally veered the wrong way. luckily, not the case... it was just a confusing grey morning. (which now that i think about it... it is fitting that the day we left for portland, it was misting out)
i neared pay station, fished a five from my wallet, sitting shotgun, and slowed up to the booth.
"hi there," i managed to blurt out once i'd stopped. i must have looked distressed because the older middle-eastern man in the tollbooth took one look at me and my packed hatchback and asked, "where you moving to?"
i repeated his question back to him.
"yes, it looks like you are moving."
...oh yeah, i'm moving....
"yes i am... i'm headed up to oregon actually."
he held out my change and when i went to grab it, he didn't let go.
"you have a nice day," he looked me right in the eyes when he said it, "and good luck."
i gave him a thin lipped nod, a "thank you", a "you too", turned to look out the windshield, and put the car into gear. i looked back at him one more time. again, he looked right in my eyes and gave me a reassuring nod. i thanked him again, and pulled away.
i think he made the whole trip. some kind of good omen or something.
