Dec. 8, 2012 – Lafayette, La. to San Antonio, Tx.

Bubba and I lay sprawled on the ground next to the broken-down 18-wheeler, watching the sun go down on I-10. Food, drink, gum, smokes, and all other consumables were long gone. The big puddle of diesel still remained on the ground.

It had been two hours since Sunny had caught a lift into Houston to find parts to fix the truck. We didn’t know when he’d be back.

Some introduction to the Lone Star State.

I was up before daylight at Lafayette’s Blue Moon Saloon, partly to get an early start, and partly so that I wouldn’t be chastised for having slept there for free. I had no destination for the day – my only plan was to move through Texas quickly.

After a two-mile walk to the truck stop on the edge of town, I waited another 60 minutes before catching Sunny’s attention.

“I’ll take you to San Antonio if you can squeeze in with Bubba.”

Bubba, 21, was a buddy who was returning home from Virginia – he had just found out about an eight-month-old daughter.

I learned a bunch from the entertaining duo, mostly about the intricacies of prison politics in Texas. Both had racked up jail time and were lifelong ‘San Antos’ – the crew of Mexicans who hailed from San Antonio.

Sunny sensed leaked gas early, and we pulled over at the Texas state line to check it out. He didn’t have the tool he wanted, but still managed a quick fix to get us rolling within the hour.

After a brief nap, I woke up smelling gas. We were spewing diesel all over the road.

Sunny cursed, pulled over, and went to work. I stood at his side like a useless idiot, while Bubba slept in the truck.

This was serious trouble. Sunny dejectedly called up his cousin, and made his way 30 miles into town to find a solution.

Bubba spent the next few hours telling me about his daughter, his time in prison, his former drug dealing operation, and his wild sexual exploits. This guy was as good company as anyone for a few hours on the curb.

Sunny and his cousin were back by 7 p.m., and soon got us rolling. Thrilled, we pulled over to fill our empty bellies, where Sunny treated us to dinner.

“I have to look after my kids,” he told the cashier, who raised her eyes at my white skin.

“I got kids of all races – no discrimination here,” he told her.

The last part of the ride flew by. When it became clear that neither Bubba or I had a place to stay, Sunny invited us both to crash on his couch – a welcome alternative to pitching my tent in the park.