You start quickly walking away from the house and stick out your thumb, trying to
catch a ride. After several cars pass, eventually an aging VW bus pulls over to give
you a ride.
"Hop in, man." a long-haired guy who looks like Tommy Chong says, as clouds of
smoke waft from the car.
You climb in and shut the door, he grinds the bus into gear, and you are on your
way.
“What’s your name, little dude?” the guy asks.
“Steven.” you say, preferring not to give him your real name.
“I’m Clarence Bonney, but everbody calls me Clyde. Kids started calling me that in
school and it kinda stuck: Clyde Bonney, Bonnie and Clyde, get it? ....So where
you headed, Steve?"
"As far away from here as I can get." you answer.
"I hear that, man." he replies. "You wanna toke?" he asks, handing you a
hand-rolled cigarette.
Although you have never tried marijuana before, you take a puff, and immediately
start coughing, which starts Clyde laughing. "Here, let me show you." he says as
he takes a toke. After a while you get the hang of it, and soon you are feeling quite
fuzzy.
He turns on the radio and you catch part of a Lou Reed song:
"...He's got 9 brothers and sisters,
they're brought up on their knees.
It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs...
Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man,
but that's a slim chance...
He's going to the boulevard"
You've heard the tune before, listening to the local FM station on headphones in
your room late at night, when everyone was asleep. With all you have been through in your short life, you can definitely relate to the kid in that song...
Just then, flashing blue lights and a siren from behind the car wake you from your
daydream. "Oh shit, it's the cops!" Clyde exclaims.