May 15, 2004
Aug 09, 2004
I originally had two great fears. One - that no one would pick me up and that I'd have to call Derek to pick me up after eight hours of standing on the side of the road in Dallas. Two - that I would be murdered and buried in a shallow grave. Neither of those things happened so I was thrilled. Laura and I had a nice dinner and caught up on things. Interesting day.
So people in the States don't pick up hitch hikers. I knew this. But I'm young, clean cut, obviously not homeless, I smell almost pleasant and I don't look threatening. So why do people in nice cars honk at me and flip me off? I don't know. I don't really mind that people don't pick me up. I don't always pick people up. But what really bothers me is that people take such joy in chastising me by honking, waving, whistling, yelling or spitting at me. Just drive by and pretend I'm not there. Finally a pick-up truck did pull over and offer me a ride, but the guys were only going to Denton which is 30 minutes away. I thought I'd hold out for something a little further down the road. So after an hour or so a trucker pulled over and offered me a ride. He was a really cool guy that drove me almost an hour north on 35. But at that point he had to turn off and head west, so he dropped me off at a truck stop. He even went so far as to call around on his radio and tell people I was his brother and that I needed a lift to OK City. No one was heading that way, so I just hopped out and headed over to the truck stop exit. It took me all of 5 minutes to find a trucker heading all the way to Oklahoma City. He wasn't the coolest guy I'd ever met, but he was nice enough. He rode motorcycles, smoked cigarettes, had a lot of tattoos, and liked to get into fights in bars. He was pretty classic. But he dropped me off at a truck stop and I had Laura pick me up after she got off work. It couldn't have gone better.