Friday 3rd October. Fairfield University, Fairfield, Connecticut, USA
A white guy hitchhiking in the Bronx? That had people looking twice! In the morning I walked from Ming's place to Ground Zero, the site of the ill fated World Trade Centre. That was an experience that desreves more time than I have to explain it here, bringing back a myriad of memories and emotions. Quite eerie. Then I caught the subway to the Bronx. Why the Bronx? Well, it was the last stop on the line, and it looked like Interstate 95 went right by the station. So there I was, in shorts and a singlet, long blond hair, hitchhiking. In the sun it was warm, but the cool breeze almost made me reach for a sweatshirt. It wasn't all that long before a guy picked me up and took me to the ubiquitous 'better place to hitch'. Considering I was in the Bronx, I figured any place he took me to would meet that definition. Next short ride was from a Bolivian woman on her way to church, then an Ecuadorian guy named Jose who wanted his photo on my website. Then finally I scored a ride with a guy who could take me all the way to Fairfield, Connecticut. Actually, the entire trip should only take an hour and a half, but since I had so many short rides, it took about four hours.
Fairfield was never on my itinerary until yesterday. The intended destination for tonight was Southbury, Connecticut, to the north. Dorothy from Southbury had invited me several months ago, but I just received an email from her son while I was in New York, telling me to come and stay with him in his university dorm instead. Okay then. It's all the same to me, I guess....and there must be some reason.
John met me outside the campus at about two thirty. I was surprised to find a university student still sober at that hour on a Friday, but of course the legal drinking age in the US is twenty-one, and John is just a teenager. At nineteen years of age, he's my youngest host so far, pipping Roseanne from Oregon for the title. John gave me a quick rundown on campus life, introduced me to his friends and showed me around. Apparently, Playboy magazine voted this campus second in the country for the quality of babe that tends to be found here, and it wasn't long before I was able to attest to their observation, although I have nothing to use as a comparison. To save our legs, we caught the bus that continually loops the sprawling property. We grabbed some lunch in the cafe, and I kicked John's ass in several games of pool. He made me promise to write that he won at least one game, so this is for you, John... "He won one game". We belted a small blue ball against a wall for a while, and threw some weights around in the gym. By the time we were done with all that, it was time to investigate the party situation for the evening.
The campus halls resonated with rumours of a party somewhere or other. All over the ground were groups of students, asking in hushed voices where was the beer and where was the party. As we zigzagged our way around the different buildings, I got to meet loads of John's friends and classmates. Cute girls could be found through every doorway. I was something of a novelty, but the question that did get tiresome real quickly was "Man, how old are you?" Hmph! Kids!
So we stumbled across a few gatherings of varying nature, only one of which could really be called a party. Something of a quiet night on campus, I guess. I was able to extract a splinter from the finger of a particularly attractive young lady, using my Leatherman supertool, and break up a bag of ice for another injured girl to use as an icepack. Oops...I forgot something. I'm supposed to write that John and I watched a video and had an early night. His Mum is sure to be reading this. So umm...