samtrevino0

It was Saturday, about three o'clock in the morning.  Three hours since the last precious seconds of Friday night. Two hours since I last used a public restroom. One whole glorious hour since my friend Sol and I decided to randomly venture forth in his Volkswagen bug to cruse the almost deserted city. To hell with the curfew, we were young and free in America.      Sol's car was a sleek, baby blue colored work of art. Made in 1969, it still looked sleek and sexy, in an artsy beatnik way that is. As the tires rolled along the wet pavement, the whole sheet metal beast of an automobile rattled and hummed. I began to empathize with the test pi