Hitcher

I was driving home from work on a Drizly Friday afternoon, feeling quite feral and amped up.

On this day, I decided to take the long way home, over a dusty back road, as it always helps me unwind and create a clear course of action for my fading future. So, I cranked up the radio, rolled down the window, and funneled the cool air into my face with my free hand, all the while singing loud and out of tune, forgetting that I can''t sing… but who cares, it''s my party, I’ll sing out of tune if I want to.

Up ahead, I spied an ‘unknown’ trolling along the berm of the road. I slowed my car to a crawl as I checked them out… shaved head to sandaled feet, I deemed them harmless. I queried, “Hey there, where are you going? Need a ride?”

“A ride? No, no! I’m going to your house.” The Hitcher pointed his jousting stick at me, smirking, “By the way, why are you driving, man?”

“Why am I driving?” Startled! I leaned in to turn off my Thrash music… as I looked back to respond, he was gone! There was no sign of anyone… plus, nowhere to go! So, I continued my drive home in quiet contemplation, visibly shaken and laced with trepidation! As I turned onto my gravel lane, rolling to a hesitant stop, and the engine running… I frantically fumbled for my Styx backpack on the front seat... my eyes were peeled straight ahead. “What, no!” I mumbled! The Hitcher was sitting on my front steps, pointing a bull pizzle cane at me, grinning…