My mom doesn't read my blog - so pretty much I can write anything I want about her I want to and get away with it! but, do me a favor and don't tell her - ok? She's a great lady - full of drive, full of GREAT advice - (just ask her for pete's sake)
And so... did I ever tell you about the time we picked up a hitchhiker? Well - don't tell my mom, but we did. She'd freak - for good reason. Biggest mistake of our lives. Actually, I picked up a hitchhiker twice - once with Jason and once without him - but the one without him was J's uncle, so that doesn't really count as a hitchhiker now does it? He was hitchhiking - really... But - it doesn't count on my part because I knew he wasn't an ax-murderer.
Once, Jason and I were headed to Brooks... he saw an old guy with his thumb up.
"Ooooo" Jason said... "Look at the poor-old guy, he needs a ride. Should we?"
"See where he's going." I said but thought "Oooo my mom's gonna kill me if this guy is an ax-murderer."
We pulled alongside the road. The old guy was heading to Erskine.
"Well, we're heading to Brooks. We can take you there." Jason - my kindhearted dear offered.
The old guy agreed.
So, we're making conversation with this old guy and I realize the smell. OOOOO Weeeee! This guy was pickled.
Have you ever been to the recycling center and opened up the glass compartment and smelled old whiskey and stale beer? Well... that's what his belch smelled like.
"Thanks for taking me to Erskine..." he slobbered.
"We're taking you to Brooks..." Jason stated.
I was tense.
"Well... Erskine is not so far."
"And that is why you will find a ride once you are in Brooks."
"AAawww geee.... I really appreciate you taking me to Erskine. Joe DiMaggio's - the bar"
I'm thinkin' "Dude, are you sure you need to go to the bar...?"
"Meetin' a friend..."
I turned to Jason... "Let's just take him to Erskine... Open the door by Joe's and wave goodbye."
"OK" Jason turned to the guy in the back "We'll take you to Erskine."
The next ten minutes were very tense for me. I mean, I don't like breathing through my mouth, but at least I knew that IF this guy was an ax-murderer, he was too drunk to be effective.
We got to the corner by Joe DiMaggio's and told him "Here ya are!"
"But won't you take me to Bemidji."
I took a look at Jason and mouthed "Get him OUTTA HERE!"
Somehow, we got him out. I looked straight a head with my windows rolled down thinking "My mom would kill me....."
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