Riding shotgun with the bearded lady

My tow-truck driver was Ronnie. I could see she had been in a few brawls and she hadn't shaved in months.

She told me stories how she likes rough men. Men with missing teeth. Especially those she has kicked out with her own boots. "That's how I like men!" she said in her low, raspy voice. She tosses me a small bag of Hershey's Reeses Pieces. "Here! Eat some candy!"

No way would I insult the driver by declining, so I ate her candy as we travelled thirty minutes down the road while she told me stories of her fast-pitch softball days, her various sport injuries, and life on the road as a Tow Truck driver. She wants to write a book of all the crazy experiences on the road. I told her about the NYC woman cab driver who blogs her experiences and is now publishing a book. She felt inspired by that. "Look at my goosebumps!" she said. Her arms were covered with them.

Driving through town, she pulls over halfway in the middle of the road at a post office. "I'll be right back. Watch the rig..." and she runs in the post office to mail her rent check.

And then minutes later, it was all over. The ride had ended. We were at the shop.

"Take care of the little lady now," she hollers out to the mechanic. She turns and gives me a wink as she lights up her cigarette. "Nice ridin' with you!" she says as she drives off, kicking up a splattering of dirt and gravel on way to her next adventure.