anyone have any stories picking up hitchhikers?

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Just wondering how many of you pick up or have picked up hitchhikers. Any crazy stories
 

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i've only picked one in my life.. her name was eileen wuornos..

sweet girl..
 

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well I never have but FISHFACE head did ....and he is a crazy driver so the hitchhiker must have been scared senseless....
 

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Dante said:
well I never have but FISHFACE head did ....and he is a crazy driver so the hitchhiker must have been scared senseless....

:shocked:
 

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20 or 30 years ago it really wasnt that dangerous to pick up someone thumbing a ride..........nowadays wouldnt advise it..



my old man picked up hitch hikers all the time he had a pickup truck....they would just hop in the back....
 

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after i saw the movie "the hitcher" with rutger hauer...i dont even look at them on the road. in fact...i speed up whenever they're around.
 

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So, I'm commuting to work several years ago at about 6:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a fairly cold morning and I notice a fellow slogging along the highway's shoulder. I have a theory about maniacs/'bad guys' that states if it is after 5:30 a.m., you are generally safe from these types as they have just finished up their dastardly deeds or their attempts at dastardly deeds and called it a 'day.' So, at an hour past that crazy-man cut-off time I felt I was safe. I pulled over and picked him up. He was relatively young and needed a ride to a town about 20 miles down the road which happened to be where I was going. We had a bit of small talk and I asked what he did.

"I'm a welder at the school they're building back there."

I smiled, "Say, that's great. I understand that welders make a pretty good living. That's great." I smiled again, warmed by the fact that I had helped out this fine, industrious fellow on this cold morning.

My mind wondered to Lyn, a friend of mine, who had opted for vocational training rather than the university route and had traveled to Oklahoma and Tulsa to go to the Tulsa Welding School. Lyn had been excited about the school and led me to view Tulsa Welding as the pinnacle of welding instruction. So, I mentioned this to my early morning passenger.

"Yep..that is a great school my friend tells me, and he's doing pretty darn well, let me tell you." Afraid that I might offend the fellow if he hadn't gone to that prestigious welding institution himself, I added, "But, of course, there are many great schools for welding. Where did you get your training?" And you see, folks, this one simple question needn't really have been asked. I was just being nice. I don't know one welding school from another, so it didn't really matter if my hitch-hiker friend would have said 'Key West Aqua-Welding' or 'Arkansas Welding & Technical Institute.' But, he didn't say either of those. He didn't say 'Key West Aqua-Welding' or anything with the word 'Arkansas' in it. No. Like a fellow trying to get his life together by being brutally honest with himself and others, he was brutally honest with himself and me. I wish he could have strayed just a bit from his narrow path to wholeness, since I had given him a ride and all.

He squirmed in his seat and gave sort of a dead-faced look down the road we were traveling, "I was in prison for 12 years and learned welding there." He didn't say any more, but kept looking forward.

I nodded obligatorily as I felt the hair from my ass to the top of my head stand on end. I smiled and tried not to swerve off the road and I can tell you I was thinking of changing my 5:30 a.m. crazy-man theory to 7:00 a.m. or maybe even as late as 10:00 a.m. It made me wish I had started with that question as he was still hiking along the road...just rolled up beside him, put down the window and casually asked, "Where did you learn welding?"

"That's...great...just uhmm, uh, great. Yeah." Now, it was either sit in utterly defeated silence with the felon or come up with some conversation and move it along to other topics. I really wasn't thinking clearly so I asked the stupidly obvious thing to ask, which means it is the obvious thing not to ask.

"What were you in for?" I've got to hand it to this guy. He was on the straight and narrow. No lies hiding his past with me. No, sir. Nope, nothing but honesty here, friend. He moved about in the seat a bit and cleared his throat, wiped his lips with his hand and gave even a deader-eyed gaze down the road as if I were some gremlin/devil come to torment him as he was making his honest way to some town twenty miles down a cold highway. 'No escaping the truth on this highway,' he was probably thinking to himself.

"I was seventeen and I got into trouble for uh, uh, aggravated assault and uh, uhm, and uh car-jacking." Straight down the road into his future he morosely and resolutely gazed. "I'm going up the road for an appointment with my parole officer." He said this last in the manner of beating me to any of my other awkward questions I was sure to stumble into.

I was numb and wasn't even nodding anymore as I joined him in staring morosely down the road.

"Well, welding is a good profession. Yes. Yes, welding is a good profession," I said. He nodded. That was it. After that we spoke very little the remaining couple of minutes to town. I took him by the court-house and waved as he left. Not a bad fellow. A nice fellow, in fact. I'm glad I helped him. I'm glad I didn't know his story before I picked him up or I wouldn't have stopped. He probably did just fine with himself. I hope so. He wasn't going to lie for anything and that's the first step to finding our way...not lying to ourselves, first and foremost. tulsa
 
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I wasn't hitch hiking but I got a story.....

I was living in South Carolina (I had just moved down there, basically just because) with a friend of mine that was moving there cause his girl was going to Clemson...I had $3000 to go with until the day before when my Grandfather who is a big horse bettor took me to Newport Jai Ala and gave me $100...I turned the $100 into $2000 and had a "cool" $5000 to move with.....not really part of the story but figured I'd include, afterall, this is a gambling forum.....

anyways, I'm walking from where I found an apartment to downtown Anderson, SC (Jim Rice born and raised) and i'm about to cross the intersection when a car is approaching the stop sign....the guy is driving alone and has his window open and says something, hello or whatever and starts bs'ing with me....anyways he offers me a ride to where im going downtown.....i jump in.......he starts driving towards downtown and asks if i mind if we stop at his house real quick cause he has to pick up his wallet before he goes to work.....no problem i say so we go to his house, he says help myself to a beer or soda in the fridge on the porch....i do.....(he went upstairs to get his wallett) I'm standing on the porch and i start to hear weird noises...sexual type noises....i start to get freaked out because i realized something wasn't right and how stupid i had just been led into this trap....(i had NO clue where I was, as I had lived there for about 2 weeks) well next to the fridge he has a small outdoor kitchenette set up so I grab a butter knife cause now im getting crazy......so a few seconds more go by and out this freak comes with just his boxers on and his chit hanging out......i throw the knife at him and jump over the porch and run as fast as i can and just keep running......that was it...i finally made it home after a couple of hours of walking around.....i know many of you may say how stupid could i have been but truly while it was first going down dude just seemed like a regular guy being friendly.....i was only 19 too if thats an excuse.....
 

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Tulsa said:
So, I'm commuting to work several years ago at about 6:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a fairly cold morning and I notice a fellow slogging along the highway's shoulder. I have a theory about maniacs/'bad guys' that states if it is after 5:30 a.m., you are generally safe from these types as they have just finished up their dastardly deeds or their attempts at dastardly deeds and called it a 'day.' So, at an hour past that crazy-man cut-off time I felt I was safe. I pulled over and picked him up. He was relatively young and needed a ride to a town about 20 miles down the road which happened to be where I was going. We had a bit of small talk and I asked what he did.

"I'm a welder at the school they're building back there."

I smiled, "Say, that's great. I understand that welders make a pretty good living. That's great." I smiled again, warmed by the fact that I had helped out this fine, industrious fellow on this cold morning.

My mind wondered to Lyn, a friend of mine, who had opted for vocational training rather than the university route and had traveled to Oklahoma and Tulsa to go to the Tulsa Welding School. Lyn had been excited about the school and led me to view Tulsa Welding as the pinnacle of welding instruction. So, I mentioned this to my early morning passenger.

"Yep..that is a great school my friend tells me, and he's doing pretty darn well, let me tell you." Afraid that I might offend the fellow if he hadn't gone to that prestigious welding institution himself, I added, "But, of course, there are many great schools for welding. Where did you get your training?" And you see, folks, this one simple question needn't really have been asked. I was just being nice. I don't know one welding school from another, so it didn't really matter if my hitch-hiker friend would have said 'Key West Aqua-Welding' or 'Arkansas Welding & Technical Institute.' But, he didn't say either of those. He didn't say 'Key West Aqua-Welding' or anything with the word 'Arkansas' in it. No. Like a fellow trying to get his life together by being brutally honest with himself and others, he was brutally honest with himself and me. I wish he could have strayed just a bit from his narrow path to wholeness, since I had given him a ride and all.

He squirmed in his seat and gave sort of a dead-faced look down the road we were traveling, "I was in prison for 12 years and learned welding there." He didn't say any more, but kept looking forward.

I nodded obligatorily as I felt the hair from my ass to the top of my head stand on end. I smiled and tried not to swerve off the road and I can tell you I was thinking of changing my 5:30 a.m. crazy-man theory to 7:00 a.m. or maybe even as late as 10:00 a.m. It made me wish I had started with that question as he was still hiking along the road...just rolled up beside him, put down the window and casually asked, "Where did you learn welding?"

"That's...great...just uhmm, uh, great. Yeah." Now, it was either sit in utterly defeated silence with the felon or come up with some conversation and move it along to other topics. I really wasn't thinking clearly so I asked the stupidly obvious thing to ask, which means it is the obvious thing not to ask.

"What were you in for?" I've got to hand it to this guy. He was on the straight and narrow. No lies hiding his past with me. No, sir. Nope, nothing but honesty here, friend. He moved about in the seat a bit and cleared his throat, wiped his lips with his hand and gave even a deader-eyed gaze down the road as if I were some gremlin/devil come to torment him as he was making his honest way to some town twenty miles down a cold highway. 'No escaping the truth on this highway,' he was probably thinking to himself.

"I was seventeen and I got into trouble for uh, uh, aggravated assault and uh, uhm, and uh car-jacking." Straight down the road into his future he morosely and resolutely gazed. "I'm going up the road for an appointment with my parole officer." He said this last in the manner of beating me to any of my other awkward questions I was sure to stumble into.

I was numb and wasn't even nodding anymore as I joined him in staring morosely down the road.

"Well, welding is a good profession. Yes. Yes, welding is a good profession," I said. He nodded. That was it. After that we spoke very little the remaining couple of minutes to town. I took him by the court-house and waved as he left. Not a bad fellow. A nice fellow, in fact. I'm glad I helped him. I'm glad I didn't know his story before I picked him up or I wouldn't have stopped. He probably did just fine with himself. I hope so. He wasn't going to lie for anything and that's the first step to finding our way...not lying to ourselves, first and foremost. tulsa

well writen.....
 

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Thanks Sherman! Your story is something else! Wow. At least he didn't chase after you! tulsa
 

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Sherman, I don't know if I am a good writer, but I make an effort to write as well as I can. tulsa
 

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First thing I thought of was Dahmer when i read that story Sherman.....who knows what might have happened
 

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Yeah...sherman might have tossed him in a barrel of acid and hid the barrel in a closet!! That guy was lucky! Oh...you meant the other guy as Dahmer...ok. LOL tulsa
 

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A similar thing happened to me ,Sherman. Hitching in Calif and picked up and propositioned by a queer. I just said NO and he gave ride to wherever I was going without incident. I almost never see a hitch-hiker any more.

I've heard carrying a gas can is a great way to get a ride !
 

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Yes Tulsa..very well written. I almost changed my major many years ago as a Prof stated I had a real talent for writing..but stuck to Engineering and never got around to writing anything of significance..besides good writing takes a lot out of you and with my alcohol problem i would have been in trouble.

Concerning hitch hiking which was relatively safe in the early 50's, i use to hitch from El Centro Ca to LA every chance i got as i had a girl in LA and was stationed at NAS El Centro..many adventures along the way especially going back from LA..lots of couples driving to Mexicali and Yuma to get married..lots of drinking..it would get hairy at times but when you are young no problem!

The worst situation was finding myself in the middle of Miss about 3AM with a black shipmate who was sorta of a Casius Clay type..pretty tough but this was Miss in 1952 (stationed at NAS Menphis)..i can remenber looking at a full moon in the dark sky and wondered what was next..fortunately we were picked up by a nice guy that was retired Navy and he drove us right to the base..those were the days

Lvoldtimer
 

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On one of my car trips from the west coast to the Midwest during my college years in the mid 70s, one time I picked up two girls outside Reno and took them all the way to where I was going in the Midwest. Must have been like three days in the car. These girls had this thing for each other, but also, to my good fortune, they did guys too. I think we were somewhere in bum frick Nevada when the girls started getting it on with each other in the back seat of my old Buick. There isn't a lot of skill required to keep a car within the lines going across the Nevada desert, but I was having issues doing it. I kept wanting to look in the rear view mirror or just turn around and check out the action. For a guy of about 20 at the time, it was the first (and only) time I watched two girls do it and was part of a menage a trois. 30 years later, I still have flashbacks.
 

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Dear Rx, <o:p></o:p>

I never thought this would happen to me but….<o:p></o:p>

Just kidding, I’ve never picked up hitch-hikers but when I was 21, I hitch-hiked across <st1:country-region u1:st="on"><st1:place u1:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region></st1:place></st1:country-region>. Truckers were usually the best, good conversation and were usually driving for long distances; had a rich guy in Cadillac buy me a steak dinner. I was about 2 hours from <st1:place u1:st="on"><st1:City u1:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Regina</st1:City></st1:place>, <st1:State w:st="on"><st1:State u1:st="on">Saskatchewan</st1:State></st1:State></st1:City></st1:place> when I stopped at a gas station diner; everyone in the diner had Red hair and sideburns, customers, the staff, the guy pumping gas except the waitress, she only had sideburns.<!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/> </v:formulas> <v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/> <o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style='width:12pt; height:12pt'> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\BILLAN~1\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image001.gif" o:href="http://forum.therx.com/images/smilies/biggrin.gif"/> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]-->:>Grin><!--[endif]--> <o:p></o:p>

I stood on the trans-Canada highway outside of <st1:City u1:st="on"><st1:place u1:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Winnipeg</st1:place></st1:City></st1:place></st1:City> for 12 hours before I got another ride. I used to play a version of the Alphabet game where I would think of a different curse word for every car that drove by. It gets tough the 3rd time through and impossible by the 8th.
I had countless offers for sex, unfortunately none where from women. <!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1026" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style='width:11.25pt;height:16.5pt'> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\BILLAN~1\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image002.gif" o:href="http://forum.therx.com/images/smilies/icon_confused.gif"/> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]-->:icon_conf<!--[endif]-->The total trip took 8 days. Glad I did it but NEVER again.<o:p></o:p>
 

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Nice Topic & Stories...........

TULSA...Great Story..what a "Trip" Well written!

SHERMAN....Great Story...I live in Columbia...been to Clemson & through Anderson many, many times!

COAST To COAST....I bet that was interesting.



Nothing really to add............But I have given quite a few HitchKikers/Homeless Guys "Stocking Caps/Tabogans." I always wear them on my mail route(Rural Carrier) And as I see them, I'll pull up, and hand/sometimes throw them a cap & say, "keep warm." I never give them time to even say Thanks or ask for maney or a ride, which I have heared "God Bless You," many times! It makes me feel good, like I've done a good deed!


MR. NEWLYWED:103631605
 

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