Hitchhikers...

 

When my friend said that she used to hitchhike as a teenager, my first thought was…I can't believe that you were out there hitchhiking at age 14!  But then I remembered picking up two 15-year-old hippie girls who were out hitchhiking years ago when I was a bachelor.

My house was a huge four-story place with three other guys back then. We each had our own floor. Party central.

The girls had been thumbing rides all over the Northeast for weeks and planned to keep going. Both were wrapped up in identical frocks, brightly flowered and flowing in tandem with their long blond hair in that summer breeze. They looked like an ad for Sun-In hair lightener standing on the side of that road, thumbs outstretched, pleading for adventure. Both stunk of BO and dirty laundry. I brought them home and let them take long showers, turning my bathroom into a sauna. The three of us lay around on my bed that afternoon, looking up at the undulating orange parachute that was the ceiling of my room, smoking a joint and listening to a new Ry Cooder album I had gotten my hands on the day before. Quadraphonic sound and an open balcony door full of blinding sunlight.

The girls wanted to stay with me, for the three of us to live together that summer, maybe even forever, and I wanted to keep them.

Those were the days of “love the one you’re with” but I knew my girlfriend who lived nearby wouldn't allow it.

Being ten years older than those two girls, I really didn't like the idea of going to jail either, so after an innocent afternoon of jabber and freedom, I gave them some cash, drove them to their next destination, and dropped them off. Wishing them well, everyone was full of smiles, good cheer, and reluctance to move on.

This time, they smelled of Ivory soap and sunshine. I knew they would get another ride in a heartbeat.

I've always regretted kicking out those two beautiful hippie girls, turning down a once-in-a- lifetime opportunity to create stories for my old age, but I’m forever glad and relieved that I did. That was an entire Pandora’s Box full of trouble that I did not need to open.

Dropping them off on the side of the highway, I worried about who they may run into next time.