On a bitterly cold night, I was working n New Jersey and had missed the last train back to the city. I was longing to be home in my warm bed with a book & some Haagen Dazs.
I met this guy & got on the back of his Harley & rode the 40 minutes, freezing my ass off, staring at his red bandana. I asked him to let me off by Penn Station & took a cab home, my fingers & toes still numb.
Not for a second did it occur to me that he could have murdered me & left me in a dumpster in some shitty town in central Jersey. Did I have a Guardian Angel? I took many other chances like that, throughout my twenties & escaped unscathed.
Now I have two daughters & wonder how much I will shelter them, hoping they would never attempt such stupidity, but would living so carefully make them boring? Or just sane.
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