While standing on the corner of the plaza in Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico, I saw Lynn Snyder (an acquaintance I had met in 1969) standing nearby drinking some beer and talking with some people. I said hello; he said hello back. I asked him what he was doing and he just laughed. When I noticed a little push mail cart near him, I said, "Oh you're pushing this little mail cart around."

He laughed and said, "Yea."

He was wearing a mailman's uniform; he clearly was working for the post office. It seemed rather strange that he was working and drinking alcohol at the same time, but I didn't say anything.

He said he was going out into the country to visit a friend, and he invited me to go along. Since I didn't have anything to do, I decided to accompany him. We both boarded a Volkswagen and drove off. I realized we were in the green woods of Shawnee forest in Scioto County, Ohio. We passed a few little houses and then arrived at a small group of four house trailers. I thought at first Snyder's friend lived in the first one, but the friend actually lived in the fourth trailer. Snyder pulled up in front of the fourth trailer and said, "Oh, no, I don't think that he is here."

We stopped and got out. The trailer wasn't locked and we went inside. It was rather large and quite nice inside.

When we decided to wait a little while, Snyder pulled out a baggie of marijuana, rolled up a joint and asked me if I wanted to smoke any. I wanted to smoke, but I told him I had quit. I was trying to think whether I had really quit. I decided I had definitely quit and I didn't want to start smoking marijuana again. He asked me if I wanted to drink some alcohol and I said I didn't want to drink, that I hadn't drunk any alcohol in a long time and that I didn't drink anymore. He seemed a little perturbed because I wasn't going to drink or smoke, but he didn't say anything.

I looked at the marijuana again and wanted to smoke. I asked him if it was any good. He said it was. I said, "Well, is it real good?"

He said, "Well, it's good."

I thought perhaps I could buy a couple joints to take with me, but I really didn't want to smoke anymore. We sat for a little while; Snyder began smoking and continued drinking.

When I asked him what kind of vehicle his friend had, he said it was a red truck. I looked down the road. Able to see for quite a distance, I spotted a red vehicle coming. At first I thought it was a truck and said, "Well, your friend is coming."

He said, "Oh, good."

As the vehicle came closer, I saw it was a big red funny-looking school bus. It didn't have sides on it, and it didn't have any seats. As it passed by without stopping, the students were standing up inside it.

The bus stopped. A fellow walked into the house, but he wasn't Snyder's friend. He seemed like someone I knew and I thought his name was Rusty.

Snyder's friend then pulled up in a big red truck, climbed out and walked into where I was. He said hello to Snyder and shook hands with him. I said, "My name's Steve Collier."

He seemed to be homosexual. I also thought Snyder was homosexual; I thought, "Oh, two gays."

The fellow was about 40 years old, but he didn't look that old.

I wanted to leave and go home. Snyder and Rusty continued drinking and smoking. I began thinking, "Well, I've gotten myself into a bad situation now and I just want to go home."

When I asked Snyder when he was going to leave, he said, "In a little while."

I asked Rusty when he was going to go home and he said, "Pretty soon."

I said, "Well, maybe I'll go home with him."

Rusty said it would take an hour or two to get home. I said, "It won't take an hour or two to get back to Portsmouth."

He said they were going to take a different route this time.

When Snyder finally decided to leave, Rusty decided to ride with Snyder rather than drive himself. We walked to Snyder's car and Rusty got into the front seat with Snyder. I climbed into the back seat and we took off down the road. We went for a little ways and then stopped at a gas station. We used the pump and I watched the numbers spin around on the pump. Snyder filled up the tank because he didn't know how much gas he had. The price came to a little over three dollars.

Rusty said that he knew the fellow operating the gas station and that he occasionally saw the fellow in town. As we pulled out of the gas station, we seemed to be in a little go-cart rather than the Volkswagen. The go-cart didn't move quickly down the road. It also seemed as if the fan belt of the go-cart were rubbing against one of the black shoes which I was wearing.

As we rode along, I asked Snyder how long he had been working for the post office. He said, "Two years."

I said, "Well, didn't you work for the post office once before?"

He said he had worked for it once before for about three years. I said, "Well, you've worked for five years then. You have five years of work toward your pension."

He said, "Oh yea, I've got five years toward my pension and towards blue cross and things like that."

I asked Snyder if he knew I was going to go back to school. He answered, "No."

I said, "Yea, I'm going to go to law school."

Rusty said, "Oh yea, I heard about that."

I asked Rusty how he had heard about it and he said John Estepp had told him. I thought John Estepp was my mother's lawyer and that my mother must have told John Estepp; but Rusty said, "You won't be able to study the right kind of law."

I replied, "Yea, I'm going to a real good law school."

He said, "Well, you'll just be studying gentlemen's law."

I said, "No, as soon as I graduate, I'll be able to take the bar examination and become a full fledged lawyer."

Copyright 2008 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com