https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/elal2/have_you_ever_picked_up_a_hitchhiker/
created by MD786 on 13/12/2010 at 23:35 UTC*
2429 upvotes, 107 top-level comments (showing 25)
My friend and I were pulling onto the highway yesterday when suddenly a Mexican looking kid waived us down and ran up to our window. He was carrying a suit case, the big ones like we take on international vacations and it seemed as if he had been walking for a some time. Judging from his appearance I figured he was prob 20-21 years old. He asked us if he could get a ride to "Grayhun". We both looked at each other and understood that he was saying Greyhound, and the only Greyhound bus stop in town was at this gas station a few miles down the road. It was cold and windy out and we had some spare time so we told him to jump in.
Initially thoughts run through your head and you wonder... I wonder whats in that suitcase...is he going to put a knife to my neck from behind the seat... kilos of coke from Mexico because this is South Texas?... a chopped up body?...but as we began to drive I saw the sigh of relief through the rear view mirror and realized this kid is just happy for a ride. When we got to the gas station, my friend walked in and double checked everything to make sure it was the right spot but to our surprise the final bus for Houston left for the day. The next bus at 6:00 p.m. was in a town 25 miles over. We tried explaining this to him, I should have payed more attention in the Spanish I and II they forced us to take in High School. The only words I can really say are si and comprende. My friend and I said fuck it lets drop him off, and turned to him and said " listen we are going to eat first *making hand gestures showing spoons entering mouth* and we will drop you off after" but homeboy was still clueless and kept nodding.
We already ordered Chinese food and began driving in that direction and when we got there, he got out of the car and went to the trunk as if the Chinese Restaurant was the bus stop. We tell him to come in and eat something first, leave the suitcase in the car. He is still clueless. When we go in, our food was already ready. We decided to eat there so he could eat as well. When the hostess came over, she looked spanish so I asked her I was like hey listen we picked this guy up from the street, he missed his bus and the next one is 25 miles over can you tell him that after we are done eating we will drop him off its ok no problems... and she was kinda taken by it and laughed, translated it to the guy, and for the next 10 mins all he kept saying was thank you. After we jumped into the car, I turned to him in the back and was like listen its 25 miles, I'm rolling a spliff, do you smoke? He still had no clue, but when we sparked it up, and passed it his way he smoked it like a champ. He had very broken English, but said he was from Ecuador and he was in America looking for a job to make money for his family back home. Like I said he was prob 20-21 years old. Shorly after, we arrived at our destination, and said farewell. Dropped him off at some store where he would have to sit on a bench outside for the next hour.. but I did my best. I hope he made it to wherever he had to go.
My man got picked up, fed sweet and sour chicken, smoked a spliff and got a ride to a location 30 mins away. I hope he will do the same for someone else one day.
Comment by rightdeadzed at 14/12/2010 at 05:38 UTC
975 upvotes, 10 direct replies
I've picked up numerous hitchikers but one in particular stands out. His name was Garth. Garth was a hell of dude with a hell of a story. This is the encounter between my friends and Garth.
After graduating high school, myself and 4 friends decided to take a long road trip over the summer and Glacier National Park was our Mecca for the trip. We found ourselves camping in the middle of nowhere in the woods of NW Montana, some 25 miles north of Missoula. We camped illegally and got drunk and stoned and pretty much stayed up all night.
In the morning, I woke up in the drivers seat of my car to see some dude walking by in the road which was 40 yards away from our campsite. The guy walking couldn't see us just passing by but I could see him. I was still half drunk so I decided to yell at him, not even thinking that it could be the owner of the land that we were illegally camping on. He did a 180 and stared straight at me and began walking towards me. He had a single backpack, a big tree limb for a walking stick and looked exhausted and hungry. He looked like the Big Lebowski mixed with Saul from Pineapple Express but acted like someone who had just had their ass kicked, mentally and physically. He looked like someone had suck his soul out of him. My friends had heard me yelling for him so they had stirred awake to find to their surprise, Garth sitting in one of our lawnchairs eating our stale Doritos like he hadn't eaten anything in days. We would later learn that was actually true.
It was about 10 AM by the time we decided to leave the campsite and head back to Missoula to find food. Garth hopped in the car and began to tell his story of how he ended up in the middle of nowhere Montana. He sat shotgun and talked while my friend sat behind him, ready for Garth to try to kill us or something crazy. The story that Garth told us was fucking crazy. It basically went something like this. Some dude he met in Missoula promised him some work on his land. Apparently, the guy bought some land and needed some trees and brush cleared so he could start building a house. He said he would let Garth stay on his land for the night and meet him their in the morning with some tools and some food so they could work all day to clear this brush. Well, one day went by, then another.....and another and another. The guy never showed up and Garth was on this guy's land for 5 FUCKING DAYS WITH NO FOOD OR SHELTER. He luckily had a stream of water on "his land" that Garth drank to keep hydrated but catching food was next to impossible. He said he could hear coyotes very close to him at night and one morning he woke up to a Bull Moose 30 yards away from, snorting and stomping it's hooves on the ground, ready to charge. Garth ran up a tree and stayed there for the rest of the day.
He said he didn't want to leave the land because he had no idea where he was and he was hoping that the guy would show up to take him back to town. It wasn't until this particular morning that he said he was so hungry and cold that he thought he was going to die if he didn't start walking somewhere. Garth said he started following a logging road with the hope it would lead him somewhere. He had been walking all night with no signs of anything. He actually thought he was walking in circles. He said that the coyotes were howling and he was the most scared he had ever been in his life. We were the first sign of people he had seen in almost 6 days.
After told us this story we were said we wanted to buy him a lunch and some beers and a coat. He immediately declined...he seemed embarrassed by the situation, especially because some 18 year olds were going to buy him this stuff. We understood where he was coming from but this guy just had 6 days of hell in the woods and he deserved a hot meal. He finally said he would eat lunch with us so we took him to a chinese buffet were he ate down 4 fat plates, LIKE A BOSS!
After lunch he asked us to take him to the homeless shelter in town so he could get a shower and get a bed for the night. We agreed and took him across town to drop him off. The car ride over was quiet, mainly because Garth dosed off, probably from his exhaustion. He was still sleeping when we got to the homeless shelter. We woke him up and he thanked us a million times and stumbled into the shelter. My friends and I were floored by his story. We didn't say much as we hit the road north to Glacier National Park, until we noticed something on the floor by the front seat. His fucking BACKPACK.
We were 40 miles north of town and didn't even think about what to do. We pulled over and turned around to take his backpack to him at the shelter. We contemplated opening it for a good 15 minutes. We thought it would be wrong and that we wouldn't want someone to do that to our pack. But our curiosity got the best of us and we decided to open it. Garth was to EPIC to not find out what he had in there to aid in his wilderness adventure. We joked about what would be in there - a bloody knife, a head, some sort of body part. What we found was truly unbelievable. We found out that Garth was Bi-Polar and Diabetic based on his medications. He had some oral glucose gel to combat his low blood sugar, a blood sugar machine and zoloft (anti-depressant). It blew my mind that this man, a diabetic would even think about staying in the woods for this long while knowing he was a Diabetic. We also found a notebook that had some sketches and writings, mainly about his travels around the pacific northwest. I wanted to read more but we had reached the shelter to return his pack.
Garth was a fucking man if i had ever met one. We thought he could use a little help so we put $100 in his pack before we gave it back to him. He was inside sitting at a table when we arrived with his pack. I held out the pack and just said, "I think you forgot something man". He stood up and ran over to me, grabbed it and then gave me a huge bear hug and started crying. He told me, while he was hugging me, that he thought that he had just lost everything he owned after we dropped him off. It was weird but I felt like I had to hug him back, so I did. He followed us back out to our car and thanked us again and offered us a cup of coffee, we declined and said we had to be on our way to get there before dark. He understood and even offered to take a look at our car's oil and other stuff before we headed out! We said no, said goodbye and drove off to the corner.
We were stuck at a traffic light and I could still see him in the review mirror, probably 50-60 yards behind us. He knelt down to dig through his backpack. He took out his glucometer, his notebook and then the $100 we had put in there. He saw it and started running after us, either to thank us or to try to give it back. The light turned green and we drove off before he got to us. I stood out the car window gave him a wave and a Peace Sign. He responded with a salute and the biggest smile I've ever seen. We drove off and we never saw him again.
This was our encounter with Garth, the world's manliest hobo. Wherever you are Garth, Godspeed my good man!
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 04:57 UTC*
988 upvotes, 3 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 02:38 UTC
682 upvotes, 7 direct replies
My husband and I were leaving the grocery store and witnessed a big dramatic mulch theft. Yes, someone grabbed a bag of mulch, tossed it in their jeep and sped off, tires squealing, jumping curbs...it was confusing and hilarious. The high school clerks were mostly indifferent, but there were a couple employees freaking out and running after the jeep. Then we turn around and there is this girl standing there with her jaw hanging open, and holding a box of donuts. She just looks at us and says/demands "I need a ride. I don't know why he just did that. That's my cousin." The employees who were freaking out, kind of turn and start coming toward her now that the jeep is gone. So we were like "uh..ok lets go." She lived like 2 miles away in the mobile home park, sure enough the jeep was parked in the drive. For some reason her cousin just totally ditched her for a $4 bag of mulch.
Comment by rhoner at 14/12/2010 at 02:36 UTC*
7488 upvotes, 64 direct replies
Just about every time I see someone I stop. I kind of got out of the habit in the last couple of years, moved to a big city and all that, my girlfriend wasn't too stoked on the practice. Then some shit happened to me that changed me and I am back to offering rides habitually. If you would indulge me, it is long story and has almost nothing to do with hitch hiking other than happening on a road.
This past year I have had 3 instances of car trouble. A blow out on a freeway, a bunch of blown fuses and an out of gas situation. All of them were while driving other people's cars which, for some reason, makes it worse on an emotional level. It makes it worse on a practical level as well, what with the fact that I carry things like a jack and extra fuses in my car, and know enough not to park, facing downhill, on a steep incline with less than a gallon of fuel.
Anyway, each of these times this shit happened I was DISGUSTED with how people would not bother to help me. I spent hours on the side of the freeway waiting, watching roadside assistance vehicles blow past me, for AAA to show. The 4 gas stations I asked for a gas can at told me that they couldn't loan them out "for my safety" but I could buy a really shitty 1-gallon one with no cap for $15. It was enough, each time, to make you say shit like "this country is going to hell in a handbasket."
But you know who came to my rescue all three times? Immigrants. Mexican immigrants. None of them spoke a lick of the language. But one of those dudes had a profound affect on me.
He was the guy that stopped to help me with a blow out with his whole family of 6 in tow. I was on the side of the road for close to 4 hours. Big jeep, blown rear tire, had a spare but no jack. I had signs in the windows of the car, big signs that said NEED A JACK and offered money. No dice. Right as I am about to give up and just hitch out there a van pulls over and dude bounds out. He sizes the situation up and calls for his youngest daughter who speaks english. He conveys through her that he has a jack but it is too small for the Jeep so we will need to brace it. He produces a saw from the van and cuts a log out of a downed tree on the side of the road. We rolled it over, put his jack on top, and bam, in business. I start taking the wheel off and, if you can believe it, I broke his tire iron. It was one of those collapsible ones and I wasn't careful and I snapped the head I needed clean off. Fuck.
No worries, he runs to the van, gives it to his wife and she is gone in a flash, down the road to buy a tire iron. She is back in 15 minutes, we finish the job with a little sweat and cussing (stupid log was starting to give), and I am a very happy man. We are both filthy and sweaty. The wife produces a large water jug for us to wash our hands in. I tried to put a 20 in the man's hand but he wouldn't take it so I instead gave it to his wife as quietly as I could. I thanked them up one side and down the other. I asked the little girl where they lived, thinking maybe I could send them a gift for being so awesome. She says they live in Mexico. They are here so mommy and daddy can pick peaches for the next few weeks. After that they are going to pick cherries then go back home. She asks if I have had lunch and when I told her no she gave me a tamale from their cooler, the best fucking tamale I have ever had.
So, to clarify, a family that is undoubtedly poorer than you, me, and just about everyone else on that stretch of road, working on a seasonal basis where time **is** money, took an hour or two out of their day to help some strange dude on the side of the road when people in tow trucks were just passing me by. Wow...
But we aren't done yet. I thank them again and walk back to my car and open the foil on the tamale cause I am starving at this point and what do I find inside? My fucking $20 bill! I whirl around and run up to the van and the guy rolls his window down. He sees the $20 in my hand and just shaking his head no like he won't take it. All I can think to say is "Por Favor, Por Favor, Por Favor" with my hands out. Dude just smiles, shakes his head and, with what looked like great concentration, tried his hardest to speak to me in English:
"Today you.... tomorrow me."
Rolled up his window, drove away, his daughter waving to me in the rear view. I sat in my car eating the best fucking tamale of all time and I just cried. Like a little girl. It has been a rough year and nothing has broke my way. This was so out of left field I just couldn't deal.
In the 5 months since I have changed a couple of tires, given a few rides to gas stations and, once, went 50 miles out of my way to get a girl to an airport. I won't accept money. Every time I tell them the same thing when we are through:
"Today you.... tomorrow me."
tl;dr: long rambling story about how the kindness of strangers, particularly folks from south of the border, forced me to be more helpful on the road and in life in general. I am sure it won't be as meaningful to anyone else but it was seriously the highlight of my 2010.
Comment by HoTDoGlol at 14/12/2010 at 02:02 UTC
111 upvotes, 2 direct replies
I once picked up my (what I now know to be my uncle) on a street. After some good conversation (and a joint between us) we realized that we were family...distant uncle then, not so much now.
Comment by hiwhoami at 14/12/2010 at 00:44 UTC
212 upvotes, 4 direct replies
That is the sweetest hitchhiker story I've ever heard. Major props to you and your determination to help this guy!
I've picked up plenty of hitchhikers in my life. One I remember was a 28ish year old guy who was trying to get to Madison to be a test subject for a new ADD medication. Apparently they lock you up for a couple months, regulate your diet and exercise, then give you a few grand and set you free. Y'know, if the meds they're testing don't kill you. Anyway, I got him another 50 miles down the road before I had to turn south. He was nice though.
This past June, right before our wedding, my (now ex) husband picked up 3 crusty kids and their dog. They were hitching their way to a Rainbow Gathering, so he brought them home to me. We fed them and packed them goody bags full of aspirin and hand sanitizer, along with 10 pounds of dog food, then drove them to the next state. They were a nice bunch of kids.
I've also *not* picked up hitchhikers who I thought were suspect, but I usually go to the nearest gas station and put together a bag of water, gaterade and granola bars and bring it to them. Even if I think they look creepy, I still don't want them to go hungry.
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 00:56 UTC
83 upvotes, 2 direct replies
I also had to hitchike when I hit a deer in jasper and was 200 mi from civilization, it was -30 out and i had no signal. Luckily a family stopped and drove me 200 miles to town, otherwise i surely would have died overnight. The guy turned out to be a mounty
Comment by TheToolMan at 14/12/2010 at 01:58 UTC
160 upvotes, 2 direct replies
When I was twelve or thirteen my Dad and I were on our way home from somewhere a few hours away and he decided it would be a good idea to pick up the hitchhiker on the side of the interstate holding a cardboard sign with the name of our town on it. As soon as we picked him up it was obvious that he was homeless. He smelled terribly and when asked him where he lived he asked just to be dropped off downtown. His name was Stepps. He turned out to be very nice and down to earth. He told us about hitchhiking all over the country and what he had seen. Before we dropped him off we bought him some McDonald's and then never saw him again. My dad's first words when he got out of the car were, "Don't tell your mother about this."
Comment by tthatfreak at 14/12/2010 at 03:01 UTC
79 upvotes, 1 direct replies
My father was working nights at an airport and I was his transportation back and forth. One night he calls me to show up early. As I pull up, my father is standing next to a small man with several boxes. My father instructs me to load up the boxes; they are cold and wet. The man gets inside and my father tells me to drive to downtown. It was a quiet ride. We get near downtown and my father directs me towards the Greyhound bus station. I help unload the boxes and I wander around as my father talks a little bit with the man. Eventually, the man boards a bus and my father comes back to the car with one of the boxes. I ask "Who's that?" and "What's in the boxes?" and my father just smiled. We eventually get home and he brings in the box. My mother joins us as we await for my father's revelation. We all look over his shoulder as he pulls out....
fish; frozen salmon, to be specific.
Apparently, the man was a fisherman that had been working in Alaska. He had saved up to transport himself and his cargo, but couldn't complete his goal of selling off some of his fish to get enough for cab fare to downtown. My father, always a generous man, had offered to give the man a ride for free. As a thank you for the ride, and for even giving him the time of day to ask if he needed anything, he gave my father a giant box of frozen salmon.
We ate salmon for a while.
TL;DR: Pickup hitchhiker = free fish!
Comment by ilovefacebook at 14/12/2010 at 01:42 UTC
288 upvotes, 5 direct replies
I was dropping a friend off at the airport, and some middle-aged guy with luggage came up to my car and asked for money for a taxi to where his hotel was. He kind of didn't know the city's geography, and a taxi would have cost around $80. He didn't look to happy when I told him that, and explained that he had just flown in from a job interview in Detroit, and was in town for another job interview the following day.
After hemming and hawing, I let him jump in, and drove him the 40 miles to his hotel. He was apparently an engineer, who I kid you not, worked on rockets, the Space Shuttle, and other various flying things. He said he was on his last, and these job interviews were the last bit of hope for him. We just talked the whole time about his previous jobs, and various 3d rendering software technology.
it was my first time picking up a hitchhiker, and he wasn't creepy at all.
tldr: picked up a hitchhiker. didn't even get a handjob.
Comment by xenzor at 14/12/2010 at 00:53 UTC
156 upvotes, 4 direct replies
I picked a guy up one time who started out being friendly. He then made some joke about stabing me with this strange laugh. Like it was a joke but not really.. I told him to get out.
Comment by sinistrality at 14/12/2010 at 09:27 UTC
146 upvotes, 3 direct replies
Hitch-hiking in two acts:
Act I: Years ago I ran out of gas in the rain, so I started walking. An old guy in a beat up truck eventually stopped, even though I wasn't hitching. I was soaked and still had a few miles to go, so what the hell. I was grateful, then asked for the gas station at the next exit. He said his home was close, and he had gas there. He seemed kind, but I was young and pretty freaked. I think he sorta kept me on high alert on purpose -- like he had a lesson he was trying to teach me. We got to his home without incident. He found a 5 gal. gas can full of fuel, then drove me back to my car. I was amazed. I offered him the only $10 I had in my wallet, but he declined. When I shook his hand, he palmed me a crisply-folded $50 and said, "Hold on to this for me. If you need it, go ahead and use it. But if you can hang on to it for a while, pass it on. I'll be grateful." He left me holding the crisp $50 and a full gas can, and I never saw him again.
Act II: A dozen or so years later, I'm driving home sometime after 11 o'clock at night on a Sunday. It's been snowing all day, and the interstate I'm on hasn't been plowed in hours. I'm doing 20 mph and it's really coming down, very few other idiots like me out on the road. I see red tail lights way up ahead of me -- then they float to the left, then right, then slip down below what should be the road. She slid right off the interstate and down an embankment. It took me a few minutes to finally spot her. The car was in one piece, right side up. For some reason I shut my car off when I pulled over. I remember because when I got out, it was that weird whisper quiet of a midnight snowfall. Then she started screaming.
Later she told me (through sobs) that she thought I was going to kill her. At the time, all I could think of was that she was pinned inside the car, and seriously injured. So I go stomping down through the snow as fast as possible, which causes her to scream even more. It was at least 15 minutes before she'll even roll down the window to talk to me. She bumped her head, but otherwise was okay. Her car wouldn't start, and was very stuck, anyway. I get her up to my car, and she gives me rough directions to her home, but is still really emotional. Then her cell phone rings. The guy on the other end is PISSED she's not home yet. His yelling sets her off again, and then she's trying to explain the car wreck to this asshole. At first he doesn't believe her, calls her a cheating whore. She finally manages to convince him, but then he wants to know how the hell she's getting home. She explains me stopping to help, thinking I was going to murder her, and that now I'm driving her home. Asshole wants to know who I am (I offer my first name for the first time), am I demanding a blow job as payment, just all kinds of madness. Eventually she hangs up the phone, even more a mess, if it's possible, than when I found her at the bottom of the ditch.
The next half-hour to her place (doing 20 mph) was actually pretty amazing. She was trying to go back to school, get her shit together, dump that sorry sack she was going home to. She said in the first few minutes after the wreck, sitting lonely in the silence of snowfall, that she thought she was going to die. Either because of the weather or because she should just go ahead and take her own life. When she first saw me and thought I was going to kill her, she realized she wanted to live, and that she still had a life worth fighting for. She grabbed my hand, started sobbing again, and thanked me for saving her life. We pulled into her driveway, and she hugged me and thanked me again. I pulled out my wallet and gave her a crisply folded $50. "Hold on to this for me. If you need it, go ahead and use it. But if you can hang on to it for a while, pass it on. I'll be grateful."
I've had low times when I've needed it, and used every last penny. But eventually I'd get ahead a bit, and restock with a new, crisply folded $50. I've been carrying the same $50 for probably 5 years now. This thread reminds me that I keep it for you, not me. I think it's time to pass it on again. Thank you, OP.
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 02:41 UTC
140 upvotes, 2 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 13:17 UTC
69 upvotes, 2 direct replies
On my road trip to LA from NJ I happened upon a hitch hiker, he was old, maybe 60, and walking in the middle of the desert in Texas. He had no backpack, no nothing, just the clothes on his back. I past him at first, but quickly slammed on my brakes and put it in reverse, I figure an elderly man walking in the middle of the desert isn't looking to rob, rape, or kill anyone.
Once I pulled over he began jogging toward my car, but with a limp. I could already see the damage the sun had done to his unprotected face through my rear-view mirror. Once he got in the car he immediately thanked me, you could hear the desperation and dehydration in his voice. I gave him a bottle of water and then asked where he was headed, before I could finish my sentence he had finished the water.
He said he was headed to Phoenix to go back home to his wife, he had this deep southern accent akin to Boomhauer from King of the Hill. Since I had family in Gilbert and was headed that way to begin with, I figure whats the big deal, it was only going to be and extra hour of driving.
At first he was very short with answering the questions that I asked, not that he was rude, just exhausted. When asked how many miles he had walked since his last ride he replied, with relief, "only 60" as if expecting to walk 200.
I had a McDonald's gift card that my girlfriend sent me for the road trip, which I didn't consider using because McDonald's is a diarrhea factory and I wanted to make good time without having to shit on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere every 5 minutes, but this guy looked like he hadn't had a meal in a day or two. I pulled to the drive-thru of the next one I came across and asked him to order anything he liked. He seemed to become more chipper and have more energy once the opiates from the cheese hit him...and I must confess to the purchase of some french fries for myself.
After that McDonald's stop there were no more rest stops or gas stations for miles, about 2 hours into the journey through the desert my car began to stall out...
Looking at my quarter tank of gas I couldn't figure why my car was acting up, before my road trip I had my uncle (mechanic his whole life) look over my car a fix everything that needed to be fixed, change the fluids, the whole 9. I naturally had a GPS and ran a search for the nearest gas station...which was 22 miles away... trust me when I say my car sounded like it couldn't even make 1 more mile.
I immediately started going in the direction of the suggested route , keep in mind there is nothing but desert and mountains as far as the eye can see. My car kept on "put putting" its way like those sickly cars would you see in cartoons. At that moment I realized why getting cheap gas doesn't pay off in the long run, clearly it was a bad mix and my car was trying to burn something that couldn't.
After stalling several times I eventually reached my destination, and it was the smallest fucking town I had ever seen. The gas station was there just like the gps said, well, at least what was ever left from the fire that hit it maybe about 5 months prior. All while this is going on my guest just kinda sat there quietly, probably to nervous to say anything in fear of possibly adding to my frustration. I stall again.
I get out and walk a little bit, taking my keys of course. I don't walk more than 50 feet before finding the first sign of life, a man watering his pavement....yes....he was watering his pavement....again...small fucking town in the middle of nowhere. I asked if the gas station that burnt down was the only one in town and to my delight it was not. There was one more about a mile into town, I got in my car and with a 'put put putter' my engine turned over and got me the rest of the way.
Once I got to the gas station I loaded up on some snacks and drinks knowing I still had about 10hrs of driving ahead of me. By the way, at the checkout in the gas station/bar/grocery store, I asked the attendant how many people live in town...He said 315...he knew the exact fucking number...they had a population smaller that my high school.
Any way...having that old man hitch hiker in the car while all that was going on made it seem much more like an adventure, it gave me a little more motivation to solve the problem rather than just calling AAA, don't really know why...just did. From that point on it was smooth sailing.
Once we got back on the road we began the awkward dance of finding a common musical interest that we can tolerate for the next 10 hours until we reach Phoenix. I mainly enjoy music like JUSTICE and Kavinsky on these long road trips, Electro keeps me awake. Being the southern type he liked country, I'd rather be raped. Low and behold there was one group we both shared a common affinity for, leave it to the Beatles.
With there only being about 2 hrs left until we reached Phoenix I began to pry about why an elderly man such as himself was hitch hiking in the first place. Turns out he was younger then he looked, he was 53, but man was his story sad. Having lost his job of 20 years as a janitor he moved to Tennessee to work at a construction site, at his age! I guess maybe due to budget cuts about a third of there workers got shit canned only after about 7 months after the start of the project, probably to be replaced by cheaper labor. In these economic times I bet people would work for just about any wage, he had no other choice but to head back home.
With his last check in hand he headed to the back to cash it in order to fund his trip back home. With a good chunk of change in his pocket he purchased a Grey Hound bus ticket and gave a call to his wife tell her he is on his way. Once the bus started to board, tragedy struck.
Two guys jumped him, probably having seen his cash while he was paying for his ticket. He put up a fight, defending of course the only money he had left to his name, only then to get stabbed twice in the chest. He almost died and had to spend about a month in the hospital to recover without having any health insurance what-so-ever. He wracked a bill I am sure in the thousands.
Side Note: I raged when he told me about the fat fuck security guard at Grey Hound that just witnessed all this without doing a god damn thing.
He showed me the scars on his chest, the hospital kicked him out as soon as they could, because fuck the poor and destitute, America Rules! His wife was barley making the rent, so he decided instead of burdening her with the cost of having to buy him a bus ticket he decided to hitch it.
From Tennessee to Texas only truckers picked him up and dropped him off at whatever rest stop they stumbled upon before diverting in a direction other than west. I was the only passenger vehicle to stop for him.
I am glad that I picked up a hitch hiker, it made me feel good doing something for a complete stranger in need for no reason other than for the common good. Just remember there are fucked up people in this world, people who will do bad things in the face of charity and kindness, but there are also people who are just down on there luck looking for a ride home, where ever that may be.
And for those of you who are wondering...his name was Walter
Comment by piebald at 13/12/2010 at 23:59 UTC
247 upvotes, 3 direct replies
I pick people up all the time. For some reason most americans expect every stranger in the world to be a cold blooded murderer. I've met some decent people this way.
Comment by deleveled at 14/12/2010 at 13:57 UTC
60 upvotes, 2 direct replies
"Today you, tomorrow me." Just makes my heart sing. Probably no one will read my story in a thread this size but I feel like telling it anyway.
I was driving home for Christmas from college once and about 30 miles from home, at an intersection on the outskirts of a mid-size town, I saw what was unmistakably a body. It lay some distance from the road on a snowy field, motionless. I pulled over, walked to the edge of the road, and called out "Hey, are you okay?" not expecting an answer but I had no idea what to do -- I had no cell phone and it was quiet and freezing, and I was alone.
As soon as I called out, a head popped up out of the snow. A dude dressed in a soldier uniform carrying a big rucksack starts *running* at me full-tilt, yelling "Ride? ride?" I was thoroughly freaked but told him of course and he got in. I cranked the heat to try to warm him up and we started down the road, while he shook and shook.
It turned out he was heading for my tiny hometown where his wife was living, but couldn't find any bus or train routes that directly connected to it (it's really just a bump in the road). He'd been out there in the cold for quite a while before getting too cold and tired to even stand. A uniformed soldier couldn't get anyone to stop and give him a ride in winter on a rural road. The only reason that made any sense, although neither of us said it, was because he was a very dark-skinned man and my hometown's in a very white state. It made me feel sad and ashamed.
I also felt ashamed because I was scared of him too. I'd been in sketchy situations with dudes, and every time I felt so stupid, and now I was driving alone with a man who'd been a corpse in my mind just moments before. I started to hear a True Crimes narrator in my head saying "Her family was waiting for her by the Christmas tree, but she was never seen again..." blah blah blah. So I was scared, and hating myself for being stupid, and also hating myself for being scared just like every other jerk who'd left him there to freeze.
I started leaning heavier and heavier on the gas pedal and then, out of nowhere, there were police lights in my rearview pulling me over. I was dumb enough to be relieved until the cop shined his light on us, made a face, and then shined his light on the soldier's bag where an open container of Jack sat clearly visible. I explained, in my scared little white girl way, that I didn't know it was there, that I didn't know the man in my car, but he'd been freezing by the road and I was just trying to get us both home...and that fucker went and wrote me a ticket. Then he drove off in the *opposite direction*, instead of taking the soldier home himself or following us on the desolate road to be sure everything was okay. My internal monologue started right up again: "At 4:53 pm, her vehicle was pulled over by Officer Dickhead, who observed a large male in her passenger seat. Dickhead was the last person to see her alive. Now he's being sued by the grieving family for 1 billion dollars." Then I looked at the soldier's face, and it was sadder and more scared than mine.
Soon enough we get to my little town, and I drive him to his wife's house. We've barely spoken, but he takes out a fistful of cash and insists on paying for the ticket. I started crying, but he wouldn't let me give it back.
When I got to my family and tried to tell them what happened they just gave me that all-too-familiar *you're too stupid to live* look, because obviously I'd narrowly escaped certain death by picking up a man who would have certainly been dead otherwise. For the life of me, I don't know why I told them. I knew better.
I still stop when someone needs help, and I've been lucky that people have always stopped for me. I live 2500 miles from my hometown now--in Oregon, as a matter of fact, where rhoner just become my favorite neighbor I don't know. I don't go back for holidays. I like Christmas a lot more these days.
Comment by santaclausonvacation at 14/12/2010 at 01:34 UTC*
489 upvotes, 5 direct replies
Thanks for all the hitch-hiker love on this thread.
I am a dedicated hitcher. Have put in thousands of miles in the US, and just finished a 12,000 km trip through Europe.
I've picked up my fair share as well.
Remember, if you see a hitch-hiker, try to put yourself in their shoes.
Craziest story.
Got picked up by a Nazi who was going to pick up his Nazi friend who had been unsucessful at hitch-hiking for two days from a gas station by the freeway. The guy had a big ass walking stick with a big swastika like shield on it. No wonder the dumb ass didn't get picked up.
However, the nazi's were nice to my girlfriend and I (the girlfriend is from South of Spain, so not exactly racially pure for these fucko's) In the end the crazy Nazi with the swastika shield confessed he was in love with a black stripper, and when we got out they gave us a beer.
TL;DR Got picked up by Nazi's Everything went better than expected. They gave us a beer.
EDIT!
Found a picture of me drinking the nazi beer. Enjoy http://imgur.com/u6F3V.jpg
Comment by NipponNiGajin at 14/12/2010 at 01:28 UTC
52 upvotes, 3 direct replies
I live in Japan and I once picked up two guys hitchking. They had come from Okinawa (at the very southern end), hitched all the way up to Hokkaido and were now hitching back. When I dropped them off they gave me a candy bar, and we posed for photos because they were collecting pictures of everyone who gave them lifts along the way.
This was kinda a pay it forward thing for me, because in Australia our Japanese exchange student got lost one time and some random guy picked him up and drove him to our house, dropped him off and drove off again without ever saying anything. This kid spoke NO English either.
Comment by nappy-doo at 14/12/2010 at 03:22 UTC
51 upvotes, 1 direct replies
My roommate (a straight laced, straight-A girl) and I were at the college grocery one night at about 1AM buying foodstuffs, when a very skinny woman approached me. She said, she and her husband had their car repossessed in the lot, and will I give them a ride to their apartment (about 3 miles away). So, I tell them, "sure, let me finish up," and I'll give them a ride.
My roommate was having none of it, and was very upset. I told her, "it's okay, shit happens to people, sometimes you should just be nice."
So, we finish at the checkout, get the bags and the people, go to my car, and drive them to the apartment. They get out, no harm done.
About 2 weeks later, I'm back at the grocery with my roommate, and the same woman with a different man comes up. Same story, car repossessed, etc. I tell them, "sure I'll give you a ride, just don't lie. He's not your husband, you used this line on me a couple of weeks ago. I don't know what he is, and I don't want to know, but sure I'll do it." She was taken aback, and seemed surprised, but accepts anyway.
Again, roommate is pissed, again no incidents.
I suspect the woman was a prostitute, and these were her Johns, but who am I to judge. As long as they don't hurt anyone, I don't care.
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 03:02 UTC
52 upvotes, 1 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 03:52 UTC
104 upvotes, 4 direct replies
First time I offered a person a ride was when this "big" girl was sobbing her eyes outside a Citi bank I go to regularly. She was surrounded by a lot of adults and seeing it that I was the youngest and didn't have any job duties, I volunteered to drive this young lady home. So she sat in my car still crying and saying "I don't want to get hurt anymore" repeatedly. I'm not the best person to cheer someone up but I managed to say it'll be alright. So as I drove her back to her place, she started opening up and saying bits and pieces of what happened. From what I understood, she was 26 years old, got pregnant in high school at 16, her parents disowned her, she's pregnant again (hence the big part), and her "boyfriend" is now leaving her. At this point, she was really comfortable about telling me her life's story, and she asked if I could drive around some more or stop by a park so we can talk. Being the nice guy, I said sure... and then she asked another favor, to buy her a pack of smokes and a few drinks... (I was 20 at the time)... and then she asked me to drive her to a cell phone company (forgot the company's name) to add more minutes to her temporary phone. By this time, I felt like her bitch.. anyways.. I said I had to go back for dinner because it was getting late and she sorta hinted that she didn't want me to go. lol. I insisted and I finally drove her back to her place. Then this Mexican guy comes out of the apartments who I believe to be her boyfriend, and she says to be "oh shit, he's going to kill you"... but yea I didn't care and he came up to my car, she got out, they hugged, and he looked at me and said thanks. My first time giving someone a ride. FML.
Second time I offered someone a ride was because I was overgenerous. I work out late at the 24 Hour Fitness gym, usually around 2-3am. I saw this guy leave at the same time as I was, but he was carrying a suitcase, so I shouted at him because he was pretty far in the parking lot "Do you need a ride?" Now, he turned around immediately and headed straight for me. I felt a little happy thinking I was going to help someone out tonight. He came up to my face and said "are you gay, you shouldn't be asking people if they need rides". And he walked away.
There's more stories but these first two are probably the most memorable.
Comment by [deleted] at 13/12/2010 at 23:51 UTC
51 upvotes, 1 direct replies
thanks for what you did. a lady did the same for me and it meant a ton at the time, still think about her alot. she picked me up on one of the worse nights of my life, also the night before my birthday. i was in bad shape in a different county and it was february. she even took me to her place, fed me, let me clean up, gave me a jacket, and smoked w/ me til way early in the morning. she was awesome.
i was more afraid of her then she was of me i think, haha. i think you just have to be smart. she said i looked like i'd needed help and didnt seem like a threat so she just picked me up.
Comment by sub_baseline at 14/12/2010 at 02:40 UTC
48 upvotes, 1 direct replies
As often as I can. I work at a ski resort and pick up people hitching up the road a couple of times per week, hitching Karma is more useful than Reddit Karma.
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 01:38 UTC
94 upvotes, 2 direct replies
Spoke with a tourist I met here in Australia, and he was telling me of two backpackers who decided to travel up north separately, but by hitchhiking. They would be picked up by random cars and trucks, and sometimes one would progress hundreds of kilometers ahead of the other, while at other times they discovered they were in the same town. There was even an instance where one had been given a ride in a semi-trailer, and found his friend walking along a remote highway. Reunited!
Comment by [deleted] at 14/12/2010 at 02:56 UTC
46 upvotes, 1 direct replies
I picked up a hitch-hiker on his way to his sister's wedding. I got some wedding cake out of it. The bride treated me like a hero.
