Might have been ditching my whole life, job, apartment, friends, family, and everything I knew to move across the country and into the home of a man with whom I’d spent only five actual days, not even consecutive. That was 32 years ago, and it’s still working out.
Or maybe it was jumping into a stranger’s car at a stoplight in Cincinnati and telling him where I needed him to take me.
Could just as well have been jaywalking Memorial Drive in Cambridge during rush hour every night for several years.
Gosh, or maybe it was crashing in some random kid’s apartment in Beacon Hill one warm night during the Summer of Love in Boston.
??? I bet it was bringing that weird guy home from the restaurant that one time…
...or letting a stranger give me a lift from Salisbury station to Stonehenge…
I guess I don’t know. It could have been when I crossed the street yesterday.