A kiwi traveller

Standing here looking down at my toes I am getting more wary by the minute, I look around the near empty car park and feel a bead of sweat drip down my forehead. For the good part of an hour I have been standing here, clinging onto my crumpled piece of paper, terrified as to what the next hour might bring. The only option is to focus on the task at hand. The only option is to cling to this god damn piece of paper.
The desperation on my face deepens as each car passes.
In the distance I see the outline of a man looking my way, a figure in the setting sun, he is curious. An ounce of hope swoops over me as his car pulls into the dwindling line of traffic, ‘This is your one chance’– these words are spoken out loud. To my relief, the car slows and comes to a halt in front of me. There are 2 young men staring up into my eyes. They are going my way.
Through broken English and over the drone of the autobahn traffic, I am asked about myself. Questions like this, usually second nature to me, have me stumbling over my words. Thankfully, the conversation turns incomprehensible to me and I begin to relax. I watch out the window with eager eyes, now curious as what the next hour might bring.
My thoughts are suddenly disrupted by the tick of the indicator. As the car veers to the left the hairs on my neck stand on edge, they are ready to jump and abandon me at any moment. This dirt road does not resemble the rest stop we departed an hour ago.
As the car stops and the men jump out, my common sense is the only thing keeping me from screaming. Giving people the benefit out the doubt is one of the more annoying qualities I possess and now, it seems, is no exception. The car boot opens behind me, I slowly get out of the car not knowing what to expect.
Ten minutes later I’m back in the car full of pizza and high as a kite. The amount of marijuana in my system exceeds any amount I have experienced previously, so I sit tight and watch those wonderful rolling hills flow past. As I jump out onto the familiar asphalt of a rest stop, I attempt to thank my trusted travel companions. Whatever expels out of my mouth does not resemble intelligible words.
What seems like moments later I am sitting in the back seat of a station wagon, mind a blur. I see 2 small children peering over at me, they are curious. I hear the sounds of Hare Krishna and the muffled murmurs of 2 figures from the front seat. Looking out the window at the rolling hills, I wonder ‘How the hell did I end up here?’