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Harold Rodinsky

Rest Stop Sex

Rest Stop Sex

On a long car trip the bladder is in charge of distance.

My bladder started screaming 6 ½ hours after

as I crossed the Texas state line into New Mexico,

the first rest stop was at Anthony NM,

the next rest stop was thirty miles west, near Las Cruces

there was no way I could make it that far

I pulled into the Anthony rest area

I parked, jumped out, ran to the Men’s

there was a line for both urinals, the stall was occupied,  i waited in line

reading the sign that said watch out for snakes,

a two foot space at the bottom of the walls provided fresh air and the occasional snake.

i didn't see any

my turn , the urinal next to the stall that was making creaking noise

like there was a giant inside.

a short small guy came out of the stall closing the door behind him

a four day beard kind of guy

and went to the sink and began combing long greasy hair,

unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth,

smirky grin gazing back at him from the mirror

dusty cowboy boots dirty finger nails

gingham shirt with silver collar points, string tie and a big ass Texas-sized belt buckle

I was still peeing when another guy came out of that stall

wearing a light blue izod shirt, madras bermudas, thick glasses, crew cut blond hair

joe-college from the 50’s on the east coast near Boston or Rehoboth

looking dazed, numb, out of focus, not plumb

walking like he was holding a memory between his butt cheeks

I passed up hand-washing and headed back to my car,

twenty minutes later I was having a breakfast at Mcdonald's in Las Cruces

on University ave, on a tiled patio, looking up at the Organ Mountains

a cup of nearly good coffee, and sausage-egg-biscuit no cheese

clean restrooms, and  uninterrupted time to review, rewind, review again

somehow sex at a roadside rest stop,  just before dawn in a crowded men’s room,

floors still wet from earlier hosing-cleaning, seemed gritty

Maybe it was the setting, the characters, the players, the strangers?

meeting for the first time, last time, only time

melding  body parts in that cramped stall with wet floors,

people coming and going, excitement about getting caught but being careful:

no moaning no cries of pleasure no feeling no emotions no unnecessary touching

just penetration, movement, orgasm, zip up, leave the stall

be unobtrusive no hints, just satisfied grins, ear to ear smiles

straighten your clothes get in your car continue driving east or west

only a visceral memory remains

and it begins to  fade with each mile,  

practice makes familiar, learn the rules

the signs, the signals

the gestures and glances

that say,  “I’m available.”