I came upon a trail that had tire tracks on it. I knew that if I just stayed there for long enough, a car was bound to drive down it. And even if they wouldn't be willing to pick me up, they would hopefully at least, call the cops or something. I laid down making a fresh pallete, and draped myself with Tomato's towel. I was hoping it would smell like her, but it didn't. I figured I could survive for at least 24 hours more without water before becoming delirious. Half of me wanted no cars to come. That would be so glamorous dying lost in the desert. Not as predictable as heroin overdose or a drunk driving accident or suicide by cop. Leaving this world alone just like I came into it. Just me, Tomatoes, and I. But the other half wanted to live. New people to fuck, new cities to live in, new drugs to fuck my life up with, new grammatical errors that I had never dabbled with. I've never tried PCP, and would hate to die without experiencing that. I fell asleep keeping an open ear for cars. Right before the sun came up with just a tinge of light, I heard the pathetic groan of an old fucked up domestic car barreling down the trail. I jumped up and jumped in front of such said fucked up car waving Tomato's towel around like a matador. That was unintentional. I wasn't trying to be funny, I swear.  I knew they wouldn't stop which they didn't. They swerved around me and seemed to be abandoning me when suddenly it stopped. A middle age dark-skinned woman smoking a cigarette was at the driver's seat motioning for me to get in the back. And I know this is going to sound corny, but I couldn't get the opening scene from Slacker out of my head. It was so bad, I had to catch myself from explaining all of the different trails that I could've possibly taken, and what might've happened had I made those different choices. I was speaking Spanish to her, and she had no idea what I was saying. I felt like an asshole assuming she spoke Spanish. So, I assumed that she was "native American" still being an asshole with my assumptions. "You could've been killed out there, you know? Lots of people die out here. You're just lucky you didn't die. You better thank Jesus you didn't die" "I know, I know, I know. Yeah, I didn't get lost on purpose. I was over by the hot springs, and the next thing I knew, I was lost." "You know, my five-year-old son walks up to the hot springs from our trailer and he doesn't get lost, God bless his soul." "Yeah, I know, I'm an idiot. I wasn't paying attention. I just didn't think it would be possible to get lost with so much open space around." "And, at least, next time, bring some water and food with you. You know, I just can't believe you would do something like that." At this, I had just been assuming that she was going to offer me some water to drink. She didn't. She lit another cigarette and continued to reprimand me. "And, I'm going to be late to work because of you." "I saw cops across the mountain top last night. They were shining spotlights around. I was yelling and yelling. They were completely off." She began to laugh like a maniac. "No, there's no cops around here. The only time a cop comes around here is never. That was my neighbor. He's a fucking asshole. Drunk motherfucking asshole. I mean, don't get me wrong, God bless him, but still he's an asshole." I didn't feel the need to comment on what she had said. It hurt just a tiny little bit. When I had seen those spotlights, it made me feel like somebody cared. It urged me to move in the direction of those lights. It was just some dickhead like me fucking with his neighbors. We were silent for quite some time. Her chainsmoking cigarettes in her hotel uniform and me sitting there in the back seat quietly contemplating the urgent need to make out with every single woman that lets me. After about 15 minutes or so, we began to drive through some area that was semi-developed. There was the cutest little bunny sitting right there in the middle of the road. It was facing in the opposite direction. Its long ears were perky. In the equivocated direction away from us. It was gazing in awe at the sun that had begun to arise over a mountain top. Truly serene to say the least. A sight to behold or some such other cliché expression. I wanted to warn her, but I didn't want to scare her by touching her or yelling out, "HEY! THERE'S A FUCKING RABBIT!!!!!" It went underneath her old, shitty tires with a satisfying snap. Completely obliterated. Broken down to a pureed blob of red and white desmadre. Her fucked up tires and the difficult terrain turned what could've been a neat stop into us nearly crashing into a ravine. Her sobbing came and came and came. I thought she was never going to stop crying. I thought about what I had seen in movies and television. When somebody's going through something traumatic like that, you're supposed to lay your hand on their shoulder and console them. "But, that's so fucking typical," I told myself. "I take care of all the animals. All the dogs, and the cats, and the bunnies, and now I killed the innocent bunny. At least, the bunny's going to heaven." Besides in movies, I don't think I've ever experienced anybody weep this hard, but still, I just sat back there and tried to mind my own business. She started driving again, but had to pull over once again to ball. And ball she did, it came out like a broken fire hydrant. Right then and there, she was crying about every single painful experience she had ever had in life. She was crying about the boy in high school that she liked that didn't like her back. She was crying about her cruel dad that never paid attention to her. She was crying about her granma dying. She was crying that she lived out in a trailer in the middle of nowhere. She was crying that she had to go to some bullshit job that pays her nearly nothing even though she's worth so much more. She was crying that she had some dipshit alcoholic in her backseat. I'm no stranger to emotional pain, but this was truly something else. I still refused to react. She dropped me off at the gas station half an hour later. I waited until it opened, and then gorged on Carrot juice, peanuts, and Steel Reserve. The cab company said it would take 2-3 hours to come pick me up since it was so remote. I sat the fuck down over towards the side of the store guzzling 211 admiring the dawn and the bunnies and expecting to get harrased by the local police. That never happened. Everybody out there is even weirder than I am myself and on an infinite amount more of meth. The cab driver picked me up with a gigantic mouth. It was full of tobacco chew. He looked like a victim of Chernobyl. I was instantly in love with him. I was smoking a cigarette back there helping him out, studying the Thomas Guide. Fortunately, I had a crumpled up flyer with the directions where the camp was. We were gonna take a right down this one dusty road, and there was 5 SUV's with San Bernardino County Seals on the side blazing down the trail at 40 miles per hour. They raised so much dust, we had to roll up the windows and turn on the AC. I was joking about it, saying, "Hey, I bet they're looking for me." He was laughing. It all felt so good. I was drunk once again, hanging out with someone of questionable mental integrity just like me. But, more than anything, I wanted to get back to LA, so I could get to work the next day. Being financially independent is very important to me. As we rolled into camp in the cab, that's one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. All those cops were there. There was like 15 of them. They were about to deploy helicopters. The search and rescue team was getting all suited up to go look for "Tomato". I insisted that Tomato is another person, but they weren't having it. The main cop had me take off my shirt to get a photo of all my tattoos. "Oh yeah, any excuse to get me to take my clothes off." He didn't like that. Anyway, I'm alive, as you've probably already assumed by the fact that I wrote this. I'm sorry to've made y'all worry.