Monday, May 15, 2006

My Pack Is Stolen In Vegas

There I was, standing just outside of downtown Las Vegas, Nevada in the early morning hours. I was up all night trying to get a ride out of that miserable city when a guy finally stopped his pickup truck.

He said that he was heading for a Petro truck stop. I got in after putting my pack in the back bed of his truck.

The guy began to act rather strange so I told him to pull over and let me out.

He pulled over and I reminded him that I had to get my pack out of the back of his truck.

He told me to shut the passenger door. I did.

And he took off.

Sooo...My clothes, camera and my cell phone [Yes, again! I let my guard down and left my phone in the pack. Arrgghh!]disappeared with him.

I walked up the side of that dark stretch of interstate until I got to a truck stop. But it wasn't a Petro.

I contacted the North Las Vegas police who did nothing. Nope, they didn't give a freaking damn.

So I went back on the interstate again and by this time, the sun was starting to rise and I was still in night clothes. I knew that I had to get a ride or roast!

I walked up to where I faced a sign that said: "PRISON AREA/DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS."

Then I noticed that a guy had pulled over in a big rig. I walked up to his truck and he ended up driving me into Utah.

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