(Marijuana addition)

Later that week I went home to Louisville. Since I had sold my car to Dad to pay for my college tuition, I had to hitchhike. Just outside of Bowling Green I was picked up by an old farmer in a rickety old truck. (One of the lessons I learned about hitching a ride was that nobody in a nice car ever stops for hitchhikers. Ever.) I climbed into his truck and sat back to enjoy the ride. It was a clear winter day in January and I enjoyed watching the fields flow past the window.

Jeff was at least seventy years old. He had a scruffy white beard and dirty hands. He was a slow mover but he talked a lot. And he was a very interesting person. After we got to know one another he asked me to open up the glove box. Inside was a little baggie full of weed. He asked me to roll one for us and I obliged. As we passed it back and forth the time began to slow down and it looked to me as if he was slowing down. I glanced over at the speedometer and he was doing 45 mph. It worried me very little because it was 1979 and the speed limit was only 55 mph.

Suddenly old Jeff pulled onto an exit ramp and pulled over. “Well, this is as far as I go,” he told me. I had to get out of the truck, high as a kite, and go back to hitchhiking. The beautiful afternoon turned dark. If I knew he wasn't going far I would have passed on smoking the dope. But there I was in the middle of nowhere trying not to go paranoid.

I didn't walk far before a large tractor trailer pulled over to give me a ride. There were two men in the seat. One of them got out and motioned me to get in. I didn't like the idea of sitting between these two guys. They were rough looking. I pushed my fears aside and climbed up into the seat. We hadn't gone far before they started passing a bottle back and forth. The driver ask me to hold the steering wheel while he took a long pull. It just totally freaked me out. I began to form an exit strategy but unfortunately I had already told them I was heading for Louisville and they were going well beyond that. I resolved to hunker down and try to nap. I figured I could close my eyes and everything would get better. But no such luck. When I do dope, I have what is sometimes referred to as racing thoughts. My brain goes into overdrive.

Those two assholes kept trying to lure me into the conversation. The more they tried, the more I resisted. And the atmosphere turned sour. We bounced along for a couple of miles before the driver weaved completely out of his lane and into the fast lane. When he realized his mistake he jerked the wheel back and nearly lost control as the old truck shimmied and shook. That was all I could take.

“Let me out!” I yelled over their laughter.

“What?” the little one said.

“I said let me the fuck out of this fucking truck,” I said, trying to sound tough and confident.

They looked at each other. Then the driver said, “Alright by God. I'll stop the goddamn truck and let your sorry ass out.”

And with that, he stomped on the brakes and pulled over. I climbed out and they slammed the door and took off, cussing me as they pulled away.

My heart was beating so fast and so hard, I could barely get my breath. I watched the truck as it slowly weaved into the distance, half expecting it to stop and back up. I was so grateful when it finally disappeared over the horizon.

I began to shake. I sat down on the side of the road and put my hands over my head. I told myself to calm down. I told myself that there was nothing to be afraid of. I told myself I was just high and I would come down soon. I slowly regained composure, picked myself up and began walking again. As I walked, I looked up at the sky and said a prayer, “God, I know you and I don't get along but I sure would appreciate it if you would send me a little help right now. I am just about to lose my shit here. So please. A little help.”

Never in my life had I ever prayed for something and got an answer immediately until that day. I no sooner finished my prayer than one of my college buddies drove up and pulled over. He picked me up and took me all the way home. And I thanked God for the help.