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Apr. 24, 2005 Hitchhiking once far north of the city, it started to rain lightly... on and then off...on and then off. Though it was only around four o'clock in the afternoon, it was getting dark. All overcast skies and strange wanton air. There is a type of mild anxiety that can try to rise up from the belly to the heart but, unlike other forms of anxiety, this lesser one can be surpressed with some deep breathing and 'happy thoughts.' I started to feel nervous but shrugged it off. I had never been that far from the city without means, and frankly, without a clue. I don't know if I was more nervous that nobody was pulling over or that somebody would pull over. Eventually I got a few rides. One ride was in one of those eighties sytle vans that I suppose would be perfect for a highway serial killer. It had no windows save in the front. It was red with one of those paint jobs or pre-painting prep jobs that made it look rough, non-glossy. The guy was all hair and beard and looked like a seventh generation trailer park type. He just pulled over way ahead and waited. He glared over and said to hop in. I hopped in. As we drove along he said not much. It was just a ride. The van was not filled with dead bodies. Just lots of tools and equipment of sorts. Well I suppose if I was a threat he figured he could handle it. Maybe he was a highway killer or something and after sizing me up decided I was not his type. Another ride on the same day was more fun. Another character with a three day beard and a mullet-type hair cut pulled over in the ugliest brown K-car I had ever seen. We drove along and he offerred me a beer. A beer had never tasted so good. Halfway through my beer it dawned on me (it took a bit as I was road weary by now) that we were drinking and driving. Literally. Hmmm. Well he kept giving me beers and he kept drinking beers. At one point I glanced around the floors and noticed that there were empty beer cans everywhere. I just kept drinking. He had the case at his feet, well under his knees as pushed up to the seat as far as it could go. After about five or six in a pretty short time, I was feeling a fine feeling. I wondered how long he was drinking. He kept looking all around for police. Then he pulls out a huge knife from under his seat. The way he pulled it out you could tell he had done that a few times. "This is what I use for trouble," says he. Well I was no trouble as it turned out and we got to where I was going. I bid him thanks and farewell. It had been a neat day, a new learning experience, and I'd not been murdered by anyone. Hitchhiking was fun. ------------ About the author: Brian Michael Barbeito lives in Aurora, Ontario, Canada. His two most recent books are Medium Double Double Milk (non-fiction) and Fluoride And The Electric Light Queen (poems), neither currently published. Email: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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