I speed down the Bolinas-Fairfax Road, too fast to stop. I sit up at times, testing my balance. The wind feels good. It's too hot today, even in-between the trees.
When I reach the far end of town, I discover I have a flat. I lock my bike up to the post and walk towards the main drag. I'm running a little late for my job interview.
I face traffic, smile, and stick out my thumb.
The first car stops. It’s a man in his late 20's with a little girl in the back seat. He's got the top down and the little girl is free to jump about. She's about four and has big eyes and mousy brown hair. I'm curious to know her story. My destination is only a few miles out of town. I feel a shiver sitting next to him. It crosses my mind that he may not stop to let me out. He does. I couldn't be more relieved.
I open the door and step onto the curb. As I'm closing the door I get a sinking feeling about the little girl, but I'm young and in a hurry so I don't take note of anything other than the blank stare she gives me as he screech off.
After the interview I decide it is too hot to walk back to town and try my luck again. Two middle-aged men stop to offer me a ride in the back seat of their BMW. I walk down the length of the car and peer inside. The passenger motions for me to get in the back. I pause.
He slides the automatic window down but does not turn his head to my eye contact. I say, "where ya headed?" though I’ve already made up my mind.
I walk the two miles back to town and decide right then and there, no back seats, and no automatic windows.
He slides the automatic window down but does not turn his head to my eye contact. I say, "where ya headed?" though I’ve already made up my mind.
I walk the two miles back to town and decide right then and there, no back seats, and no automatic windows.
I'm waiting for the bus but now I'm hooked -- I walk across the depot and put my thumb closer to the sky. A car rolls up, I look in and see a clutter of empty coke cans filling the passenger side floor and seat. I shake my head no and step back onto the curb. He makes for the freeway entrance and is soon out of sight.
In general, most people are hesitant to pick me up.
It’s early morning and I’m standing at the Fairfax - San Anselmo hub.
My friend Louise walks past and stops to chat. Louise yells, "pick her up" to the passing cars who do a California Stop to avoid eye contact.
Finally, a businessman reaches across and push opens his passenger-side door. I jump in and wave to Louise. The car smells familiar and I can see a little billow of smoke leaking from the ashtray. Business people get high on their way to work?! No wonder no one is picking me up. 8:20 is the new 4:20 and probably the only time they get to be alone in the day.
The next morning I'm heading out toward the valley and a woman picks me up with three children in the car. It’s her first time picking up a hitchhiker
and she implores me to hitch safely. When she drops me off just outside of town, she gives me her phone number and invites me to come by her house the following week. Another job!
I’m stoked.
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