You walk into the convenience store named Dale's. The cashier lady, all stout and stern takes one look at your mud caked yellow blanket and she yells at you to get the hell out of here or she's calling the cops. You get the hell out. You are walking down the street, its dark and only the main drag of this small town has street lights. You keep to the side streets trying to find a way out of this town and back to the party. A car turns down your street a couple blocks ahead, the headlights shining at you like accusing fingers.