My body woke me up hours ago, but I refuse to get up. The grey skies above have been wanting to rain all morning but haven’t. Its almost 10 now and my hatch is slightly open, just enough to create a subtle breeze, but also enough to feel the moisture in the air. Sticky. The kind of sticky that makes your clothes cling to your body and make you desperate for a shower. My mind is on the Californian man outside in his blue Oldsmobile. I can see him through my tented windows but he can’t see me. His windows are down and he has been trying to get comfortable all morning. Maybe all night. Finally, he sits up and I’m able to make out his face. Mid forties I’m guessing, with the obvious wrinkles and tan lines of someone who has seen some sun and has a few stories. His back faces me now as he stares at the city. I wonder who he is, I wonder what brought him here to Austin? I raise the hatch to step out and the hydraulics of the hatch make a nasty “I need lubrication” sound. I step out, stretch and turn to face him and we make eye contact. I give him a “sup” nob but he looks away quickly. I am tempted to ask if he wants breakfast, but resist because I don’t want to be let down. I quickly regret my decision and wait for another opportunity to ask again. It never comes. I’ll park here again tonight and try again.