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It was 105 degrees on a busy Thursday afternoon. I exited Home Depot, spied McDonald's across the street and knew that I had a meeting with a Frappe Mocha. As I headed that way, a phone call came in and I hung up just as it was time to order. I had no sooner completed my order than a face appeared in my open window. It was the round face of a middle-aged man, with a bandanna tied around his hairline and dark sunglasses on. “Hey, man,” he said. “Can you give me a ride to Canal and Edison? I just missed my bus and it is hot out here!”
Somewhat flustered, I hardly heard him. I was more focused on where he came from and if he was a danger. “What?” I asked. The cashier repeated the amount due through the order speaker. I told the man I had to pull up, and as I drove up to the pay window, he duly trotted alongside, staying right at my window. I could see I was not going to be able to shake him very easy. As I paid, he hung out like a puppy just out of the way, much to the cashier’s and my mutual discomfort. Looking him over, I decided that he wasn’t much of a threat and that he wasn’t going away. Besides, it is really hard to say no to someone in your personal space. I told him to climb in.
He trotted around to the passenger side and I knew as soon as he opened the door that I was going to have an interesting ride. I smelled alcohol on him and he jumped a few times trying to make it in the door, but couldn’t. I started envisioning injuries and a lawsuit. I told him to stop, in my most authoritative tone, and showed him where to grab the handle. With a few wheezes and gasps, he made it in and on we went. He was thankful and immediately started explaining that he was trying to cash a money order at Walmart and they wouldn’t do it, but Albertsons had told him they would and on and on, and I was so confused. Trying to make sense of it and also to make conversation, I said, “So is it useless now?” He replied, “No, I can use it to pay my fines.” Fines? “Well, I just got out of state prison so I can use them to pay my fines.” I tried to absorb that information casually.
After a bit, I asked him what got him in prison. He told me he robbed Wells Fargo in downtown Seattle. “Well, that probably wasn’t your best decision, was it?” I asked. “No, sure wasn’t,” he said. “I just snapped. My mom was dying of cancer and she said if she didn’t get money for the treatment she was going to die and I wouldn’t see her again. So I just went and robbed the bank. I had $100,000 in hundreds under my sweatshirt as I left the bank, but someone in line turned me into the law and they were waiting for me. I could see they had the roads blocked off, so I handed it all to a homeless person and said, ‘Hey, get away if you can! I just robbed a bank.’ Then I laid down in the street with my hands out because I didn’t want to get shot. If only I had a getaway car, I think I would have got away with it!”
I tried to come to grips that I had a slightly buzzed, just out of prison bank robber in my truck. I asked him if his mom made it, and he said she died ten days after he was put in prison. “That is too bad,” I said. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” By this time, we were starting to close in on our destination and I relaxed a bit thinking we might make it, when he said, “Man, I really like you! I want to do something for you. Have you ever had any elephant tranquilizer?” I inquired as to what that was and he said it is more amazing than Hydrocodone and went on in length to describe his experiences with this substance, none of which are worth repeating. I told him that didn’t sound like anything I would be interested in, and that he better be careful messing with that stuff, or he would end up a guest of the state again. “Oh, I know,” he said. “I have tried. It is tough, man. I have been to churches. Well, not here, but you are a good man. I really like you. I have never met someone so nice.” I told him the Bible says no man is good, but he didn’t appear to hear me. As he stepped out, he made one final plug. “Hey, man. If you want some magic mushrooms, you can come see me and I will set you up!”
Having never picked up a hitchhiker in my life, I will have to say that this experience hasn’t encouraged me at all to do that on a more regular basis. Another lesson: order your frappe mocha quick! But seriously, I have thought of this guy a lot, and while I doubt the entire accuracy of his story, there is no doubt that he has had a very different life than me and you. Yet, there is a part of me that could relate to him. Had I been raised in his circumstances would I have turned out any different? [/et_pb_text][/et_pb_column][/et_pb_row][/et_pb_section]
