Randy Travis and Shania Twain were performing live when we were leaving and Josh fretted over leaving so soon, but we had been there for six hours and were tired by the huhub. We drove past a dusty lane and merged into interstate, talking something that would have been esoteric to a humble mind. Our talks were simply gibberish....we talked about automobiles, money,drinking,fishing and hunting. No one dared to discuss academics on a weekend or any other holiday, it was an unspoken promise. Josh's family owned a fleet of yacht at Pascagoula and two service stations at Moss Point. They were businessmen for a long time and strongly disapproved of he going to a grad school. He had a lot of stories to tell about his redneck folks but I was never interested. I had had enough of rednecks. We stopped at a local honky tonk three miles east of Pascagoula. It was a wretched nightclub that looked like a smoke stack inside. With little neon lights, few strippers entertained the boisterous crowd. Me and Josh stood out instantly since neither of us was a biker nor a fisherman nor a farmer and nor a construction worker.I was so scared I wanted to bolt for the door the moment we went inside. Our arrival evoked lots of curious, and hostile looks. The strippers were middle-aged and were gyrating at some lewd number I never heard before. Each time there was a new song...the revel seemed to be much more prominent. I shook my head in disgust and was wondering what made Josh stop there. Two men approached us as we sat down. One was a hulk of a person with piercing and tattoos all over but the other seemed like he could die at a drop of a hat - a sharp physical dissimilarity between two humans is not often visible at one time. The big guy looked at me as if he had never seen anyone from Asia. I almost got into my feet and ran away until one of them patted Josh?s shoulder. 'So they were friends', I calmed down for a second. "Bubba and David, meet John", Josh introduced me. Bubba was obviously the big guy. He gazed right through me, his eyes penetrating all over my body, stopping at my heart and stopping it for a second. The thought of sprinting out of the bar returned instantly, but I held my composure and pretended not to be intimidated. The little guy whispered to Josh and they went in a private lounge for a minute, leaving me at the mercy of Bubba,who, at every second reminded me he could break all bones I had. I thought of talking to him....but thought it would provoke him more. I then tried not to be scared and remembered all those moments in the gym where I and John pumped irons. 'At least I could put up a little fight and run away'. I reassured myself, but the idea of running away simply did not disappear. A woman in mid thirties came to us, sat down in Bubba?s lap talked to him which was not audible in the blaring music. Soon they were kissing....and I tried not to look at them. Bubba did not believe in privacy and he certainly did not believe in interruption either. So I let them kiss, at least Bubba would mellow down for a while. A woman across the table blew a thin streak of smoke and winked at me. I kept a straight face....wondering if Bubba owned all the women there.One mistake, and......curtains. Josh retuned alone but carried a paper-sack along. I stared at Josh, if looks could kill, he would have been long dead. But that was a look of anger blended with desperation. I was angry at Josh for leaving me with a monster and was desperate if he was repeating the same again. Josh smiled at me, as if he read my eyes, patted bubba in head, and blew a menacing kiss to Miss Bubba-lap. We were leaving. Josh started the engine, drove for half a mile and pulled over in a gas station. Then he pulled out the paper sack from under his seat. There was a sandwich bag, neatly sealed with some white fine particles inside it. I knew instantly I was in thick of trouble. "Cocaine". He chuckled, "don?t tell me you haven?t seen it". I had seen cocaine only in movies and was not ashamed of myself. He then, to my horror, put a little heap of the powder in the dashboard and snorted it like a pro. "You drive dude", he said,"I am taking a back seat". "If you sell it in Hattiesburg, it is double the price, Montgomery - triple the price, New York - Seven times the price.. He was talking to himself, eyes closed. I drove as if I had seen a ghost in Mississippi. But could not help smiling. Josh Whitemore, a straight A student at our school was actually a dope dealer. I drove fast, fearing the drug would soon start effecting by the second. Josh might get hyper and kill me, he may even have a gun. Who knows? I would never wonder about Josh's extravagance and replenishing affluence anymore. He may buy an aircraft tomorrow, but it would not bother me. I was contented in my old Toyota. I got home with heavy feet; it had been a long day full of surprises. Josh had gone home, and I was suddenly missing my daughter. Christmas was two days later and my Toyota took less than 14 hours to reach Cleveland.