Freeway Man

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Freeway Man

The cooler was full of ice cold beer, a sandwich and a couple candy bars. George was ready for a great day. The cheap $5 sunglasses completed his ensemble of a faded Hawaiian shirt, baggy shorts and even cheaper flip-flops. His long hair was tied back and covered with a wide-brimmed, straw hat. The smile on his wrinkled reflecting in the mirror let him know he was ready for some fun.

The pale-blue trailer he lived in was close to the freeway. He had found a spot near the river where he could park and still have access to the multitude of cars that drove along its expanse. Anytime he parked, it was close to a freeway and all his friends called him the Freeway Man; a title he was quite proud of.

George enjoyed the freeway so much, he would sometime spend hours just sitting and watching the cars go by; drinking his beer and eating lunch. He had no job and didn’t want one either. The man wasn’t going to get a hold of him.

He picked up the cooler and slammed open the door to the trailer. “Look out world, here I come,” he shouted to the open air.

Instantly he felt alive as the sound of the freeway greeted his ears and the smell of exhaust filled his nose. The day was partly cloudy with a chance of rain; the kind of day he looked forward to. He grabbed the aluminum, folding lawn chair from the side of the trailer and made his way through the small patch of woods and to the freeway. He walked up out of the ditch and all the way to the curb where he set down his cooler and placed his chair.

The wind from the passing cars blew at his clothes. He stretched his arms far out to his sides and took a deep breath and smiled at the rising sun. Afterwards, he shook himself and got comfortable in his chair.

Cars raced by at dizzying speed, each carrying a driver to his or her early morning job. It was only 6:30AM and George was ready for a busy day on the freeway. He enjoyed what he did and no one would ever make him do anything different.

“Hey, Freeway man,” a young man called from just up the road.

The man was wearing a backwards ball cap with the words ‘Bite Me’ in large white letters showing. The leather jacket was faded and worn, but the chain on the shoulder looked new. His tight jeans were torn on the right leg and exposed his skinned knee. He had long blonde hair and a swagger that screamed attitude.

He flicked his cigarette down the ditch and nodded with a sneer to George. “’sup Freeway man?”

“Railroad dude, nice to see you,” George greeted the youth. “I though you were on an Amtrak right now?”

“That’s not till next week, man. Hey, you got that beer you owe me? I could really use something to drink.”

“Sure, man. Here’s the cooler,” said George, pointing at the cooler. “Help yourself.”

“So what’s going on today? You just hanging out or you got something planned for today?” Railroad man asked.

“I don’t know yet. I just like to wait and see how things go. If I get bored, I might do something later, but I just want to sit and watch the traffic for a while. You know me, I like to be unpredictable.”

“Right,” Railroad man said, nodding in agreement as he took two beers from the cooler, handing one to George. “Hey, you, me and Plane man gots to get together later tonight and toss a few back, ya know.”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing going on tonight. You guys come on by. Are you going to see Plane man later today?”

“Probably, I think he’s coming in on the 9:45 tonight, we can swing by after that.”

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