Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re saying. Save your breath – I’ve heard it all before and you’re not going to change my mind.
That being said, let me just add that I am not a moron. I mean, certainly if I were to see someone sticking out their thumb with a semi-automatic slung over their shoulder…(actually, I know nothing about guns – can you sling a semi-automatic over your shoulder?)…then of course, I’m going to keep driving. But let’s face it. That kind of thing is far more likely to happen in a movie (or the United States) than here in Nova Scotia. I believe the benefits far outweigh the risk.
First of all – if you pick up a hitchhiker, you are helping someone out. I mean, if you have to resort to hitching, you must truly be screwed. I’ve always been blessed to either have a car of my own, enough money for taxi fare or an FWC (Friend With Car). How bad must it be if you have to hitchhike?
I once picked up a kid – a teenaged boy – who was covered in blood and reeked of alcohol. It was just after dawn, on my way to the beach. The poor kid had the crap beat out of him at a party the night before and had ended up sleeping on the ground in his girlfriend’s backyard. He was tired and exhausted and hungover. He seemed like a good kid, if a little dazed by the recent smackdown (a random attack from the infamous local TOB gang). I told him his mother would have a heart attack if he showed up looking like that, and gave him water to clean himself up with, and a handful of bandages I kept in the glovebox before dropping him at the ferry. My giving him a lift was the only good thing that had happened to him that day.
When I myself was in high school, I wasn’t always able to get my hands on the family car, so my boyfriend would sometimes hitch to come see me. I’ve always been grateful to those who supported our young love by giving him a lift.
I myself have only ever been forced to resort to hitching once. My car broke down on the 103, about 20 minutes from BW. I could have walked, but the first car that passed stopped for me. It turned out to be a carload of pretty cute young guys, who quickly offered an invitation to join them out on the town that night. I was considering it, until one of them said, “Um…is your mom’s name Debbie?”
Yeah. Turned out I used to babysit him, years and years ago, when he was small enough to insist I give him piggyback rides. I decided not to go out that night. But I was very grateful for the ride.
Anyway, I always have and always will pick up hitchhikers. I would rather live in my own happy little world where people are inherently trustworthy. And I will believe that until proven otherwise, even if it proves to be my undoing. I like the colour of the sky in my world.
It’s not altogether altruistic – I need to improve my karma any way I can.