Watching the Tuareg leave, I feel torn. I want to leave, 
and I know my life is going to be miserable until I get 
to my friend's, but I don't dare to ask them for a ride. 
For one thing, I don't know where they're going. Also, 
their truck is already pretty packed. But mainly, they're 
too goddamn weird and cool and intimidating. I'm scared 
of them.

Suddenly, Scamp motions me over to the Tuareg leader and 
says a few words to him in Arabic. The leader looks me 
over and nods. Scamp indicates to me that I am to go with 
the Tuareg. Is he making up for the passport trick? He 
smiles. He tells me they're going to Aguelhok, 100 miles 
away. Oh my. I'm supposed to go to Tessalit, the 
Malian border post, so I can get my passport stamped 
again. Aguelhok is in another direction, and it's not 
a border post. If I don't get my passport stamped, I'll 
have an inexplicable gap in my travel documents, and that 
kind of thing generally entails a big bribe.

I hesitate for about three seconds. Fuck it. I'm outta 
here. And before I know it, I'm bouncing out of Timiaouine.