Saturday, July 14, 2012

Ruthie On The Road, Update

I will never understand why some people hate hitchhikers so much. Granted, there are probably some bad people who solicit rides but the same can be said for some of the drivers on the road, too. And just because one hitcher is a potential problem doesn't mean that we all are. I resent the stereotypical view that is pinned on me before I ever get the chance to prove myself.

So, the guy thought that it would be okay to take hygiene items out of my bag. I have to wonder what sort of life he leads and if he is really a happy person.

It was a "long-and-winding road" to the bed that I eventually fell into at a roadside Super 8 motel.

After I left the store where "Grocery Gus" ripped me off, I rode on a bus, up and down back country roads, to a rural junction point. I will never forget that whistle stop.

Because...I ended up waiting for HOURS and HOURS before I finally got a ride out of there.

I was grateful that I had bought a great deal of water and Gatorade at that grocery store. As time passed, I drank each bottle down or poured it over my a concerted effort to keep myself cool.

And I sat on my backpack and kept my thumb out but nobody stopped.

The sun set, various lights came on and I still sat there...trying to get a ride.

A man and his wife, pulled over their standard-issue, suburbanite rig and stopped. The man said that they would run their kids back home and then he would return to help me. He said that he wanted to buy me a room at a nearby motel for the night. He told me to stay put and "sit tight" and he would return in about twenty-minutes to get me.

He never did.

I think that he lost his nerve and finally decided to abandon his original intention to help me. I was just "too scary", in his mind, to deal with.

Yeah, I'm really fierce.

(rolling my eyes)

Awhile later, a  young man pulled up in his car. He and his female friend, climbed out of his car and walked over to me.

The young man's name is David and his friend is Annette. He is nineteen and she is twenty-years-old. But, considering what they did...I think that they are both well-beyond their chronological age.

They brought me to a store where I was able to use the restroom and buy some food and drink. Then they brought me over to that "Oh thank Heaven" Super 8 motel where I finally cooled off, cleaned up and got some sleep.



The next day, David drove me to a point on yet another country road, where we both thought I might have a better chance of being picked up.


The first person who stopped was a big man, with no neck and plenty of attitude. He got out, walked over to the passenger side of his car, opened the door and started moving items from the seat to the trunk of his car.

I noticed the ID that was clipped on his shirt. He works for the Department of Corrections and declared, as he continued to move items around in his vehicle, that he "totally hates that job."

He frowned and I took a step back.

" hate your job and you're looking for a target to take out your frustration on."

The man suddenly stood bolt-upright like I had just bitten him...and stared.

"Bingo" I thought.

"Well, Sir, that target is not going to be me and I am not going to ride with you, anywhere" I said and walked back to the guardrail.

The man looked shocked as I dropped my pack and sat back down on the rail.

For a moment, he just stood there.

It was obvious that I had just shot through his thoughts like a lightning bolt. And the man couldn't figure out how I managed to do that.

That man does not know God.

But I know that a man with a job like he has, most likely has access to handcuffs and a gun. I put some distance between myself and that man and traded his astounded expression with a glare.

"Don't make me use my phone" I said.

"You get back in your car and leave. NOW." I ordered.

The man slowly complied and I was very relieved when he finally drove his car away.

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