So I have a different post in mind for you, but seeing as I have already written it THREE FREAKING TIMES only to have it mysteriously disappear, I’m going to allow that it isn’t meant to be, let it ferment a little longer, and go in a different direction.
That stated, let’s talk about hitchhiking. Once a semi- acceptable form of travel – my dad has stories about picking people up with his cousin in their youth. It was summertime, but they would crank the heat up full bore (and this is probably where I get my love of practical jokes) and act like nothing was wrong, just to see how the hapless hitchhiker would react – it’s more or less a sure fire way to get abducted by a serial killer…except here in Maui.
Somehow in Maui it’s downright common. I wouldn’t do it – people are freaks and I (to quote my ex) “bring out the crazy in men.” This is a baaaaaad combination on the hitchhiking front. ***say hello to a shallow grave.*** Thus, I neither beg rides nor provide them, but I’m starting to reconsider that for a damn good reason…as follows.
Once upon a time, my friend picked up a hitchhiker here on Maui. As he tells it, the guy – heavily tanned, super skinny, stinky white guy in his late 30s, rocking a self-done “freestyle” haircut – was right outside Paia (but of course). He had in tow a large red and white 25 gallon cooler that he dragged to the back of the car. My friend gave him a hand in lifting the 50-pound treasure into the trunk. Speculation is that the cooler was filled with Bibles (his guess) or rocks (mine).
The hitchhiker was en route to Hana, and my friend was going about halfway. En route, however, the hitchhiker, let’s call him Bonkers, explained that he had had a vision that he needed to go to Hana to find something – but he didn’t know what. Moreover, Bonkers had been specially chosen by God to transport the Ark of the Covenant and that what was in the trunk was actually the Holy Grail.
Although one of the bravest – if not the bravest – person I’ve ever known in my life, my friend tells me he blanked out during some of the story because he was “scared for his life.” Ultimately he dropped him off in Haiku in the hopes someone else would help him and totally faked him out (driving through town to continue on his way).
Moral of the story?
Hitchhikers are scary.
Hitchhikers – potentially! – make amazing blog fodder. I am equal parts afraid and intrigued…and intrigue may very well win. Now to get a concealed weapon’s license, a can of bear mace, and a tranquilizer gun, and pick up the next post’s subject.
Vaya con Dios…