She tells me she rides around at night. Insomnia, she says. Rides in her '03 Corolla, looking for hitchhikers.

"They have really interesting lives."

I'm a prude of a person; I'd never pick up hitchhikers riding around with insomnia. I cure insomnia like most people, with melatonin. She treats hers with late-night hitchhikers.

"They usually have drugs. It's like that free beer at the bar -- you never know if it's laced."

The thrill, maybe. She does it for the thrill. Melatonin is easy. Hitchhikers get hard.

"Once, something was laced. I ended up giving him a blow."

I'll never understand. Maybe it's the thrill of the drive, that free drink, or even the blow. Or maybe it's just the thrill.