Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Since this man was open enough to let me touch his face in the first few minutes of our
exchange, I thought he might also be the kind of person who would appreciate a good story.
After telling him only a bit of mine, he interrupted me with a hearty laugh, “I also believe in
the kindness of strangers.” Maurice's moustache moved in perfect unison with his mouth,
like two synchronized swimmers dancing in a pool. “In the end only kindness matters.”
And then to my amazement he offered me a place to stay.
“Are you sure?” I asked him, thrilled and shocked by his proposal.
“Sure, I'm sure,” was his hearty reply.
Suddenly, that moment on the bench, that moment with Lina the previous night, that
moment in the therapist's office years ago, all seemed eons away. This was the adventure
I was supposed to be on. Just as I had found gas in LA, I had found a place to stay in Las
Vegas, kindness reminding me that everything was going according to plan. Maurice sug-
gested I come to his house at 8:30 p.m. He gave me an improvised map before I headed
back to Kindness One with a few hours to kill.
I walked around Vegas just as the temperature began to cool, coming down to a gentle
100 degrees. I watched a young skateboarder pull up to a kebab stand. Wait a second, ke-
bab stand? All I had eaten that day was Lina's breakfast. I walked up to the young chap
hoping he would help. Though I had had terrible luck with twenty-something hipsters in
Hollywood, I hoped their Vegas counterparts would be kinder. And sure enough, Vegas
Hipsters: 1, Hollywood Hipsters: 0.
Richard was impressed with my journey around the world.
“Man,” he grunted, staring off into the approaching sunset of the Vegas sky, “I would
love to do something like that.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, I mean, I'm trying to go pro,” he nodded down at the skateboard by his feet, “so
I hope, you know, one day I might tour and shit.”
“Where would you like to go?”
“I don't know,” Richard shrugged. “I never been out of Nevada, so anywhere I guess.
Mexico, Jamaica. Where are you going?”
It was a hard question. I knew I was ultimately heading back to Los Angeles, I had se-
cured visas in a number of countries, but I didn't have much more of a concrete plan than
that.
“I know I have to go to New York,” I told him. “That's how I'm planning to get over-
seas.”
