I get my
backpack back and make sure everything is there
and leave. I walk to the truck stop and ask every
person that comes in if they are going south. A
few people tell me they are going to Atlanta but
since I had to waste so much time in Acworth, I
decide that I want to at least get south of it so
that I can get closer to New Orleans and
hopefully get some long-distance rides.
I end up being in the truckstop all day and eat
at the restaurant and buy a lot of junk food. I
go into the TV lounge and watch a few movies
before a long-haired guy in a lumberjack shirt
comes in and asks where the hitchhiker is. I tell
him itís me and he tells me that he is going to
Florida, his name is George, and asks if I want
to come. I tell him yes and he asks me how much
money I have. I tell him that I have 15 dollars
and he asks if we could fill up his gas tank. I
agree and we go fill up and leave. We drive for a
few hours and we get really low on gas around
sunrise. He pulls up to a gas station and asks
where the nearest church is. The attendant tells
him and we drive to the church.
We get out and go into the church and talk with
the pastor and he gives us a voucher from the
Travelerís Assistance program for a tank of gas
and a meal from a restaurant. We thank him for
his time and generosity and go back to the gas
station. We fill the tank and then go eat at the
restaurant. We then hit the road and after
another hour or so we have to do it again. We
stop in a succession of towns and follow
the same pattern until we get to Interstate 10 in
Florida. He drops me off at the junction of I-10
and I-75. He continues south and I go to the
highway and wait. As Iím standing there some
redneck yells something at me and I turn around
and yell back at him and I get hit in the back of
the head with a beer bottle. Luckily it doesnít
break but just irritates me.
Immediately after I get hit a guy pulls over in a
Celica and asks me if Iím okay. I tell him I am
and he asks me where Iím heading. I tell him New
Orleans and he tells me he can get me as far as
Pensacola, which I tell him would help me
greatly. I put my backpack in the back seat and
His name is Jim and he asks me if I have any
weed. I tell him about how I just got out of jail
for two weeks for drinking and trespassing and he
tells me that is why he never goes to Georgia.
"I have a friend who lives in Pensacola, Iím sure
she would be cool with it if I brought you over
if you have time to kill."
"Nothing but time at this point." I say.
We drive for a few hours after we stop at a diner
and he gets me an omelet. We go the rest of the
Pensacola, Florida, and he pulls over
at a gas station and goes to use the phone. I sit
on the hood of the car and have a cigarette. A
Trans-Am pulls up and two gorgeous girls get out
and one pumps the gas and the other one goes into
the store. Jim walks back over to me and tells me
that his friend isnít home.
"Penny!" yells the girl that had went into the
store. The girl that is pumping the gas looks up
at the same time as Jim.
"Oh shit! Darlene! I was just calling you. What
are you doing here?" says Jim.
"Well, Jake just got in from Key West with a half
pound of really good Mexican Bud and Penny
brought some great shrooms from Alabama and I
have some acid.
We just came out to the store to stock up on
munchies and cigarettes for 2 days. We donít plan
to come out once we start for quite a while.
Whoís this?" she says, looking at me.
"Heís a hitchhiker from New York City named
"No shit? I just came down here from up there a
few weeks ago, I was working at a strip joint but
the rent up there is fuckiní insane so I came
back down here." says Penny.
"Are you coming with us, Peace, or are you gonna
go on your way?" says Darlene.
"Hell, Iím not in a rush. I still have a couple
of weeks to make it to the Mardi Gras. You
definitely sound like you have all the right
ingredients for a party and Iíve never done
shrooms or acid. Not to mention you two are
gorgeous. Of course Iíll hang." I say.
The girls and Jim laugh and then the girls go
into the store and buy a lot of junk food and 2
cartons of cigarettes, Newports and Marlboros.
When they get out they get into their Trans-Am
and Jim and I follow in his car. We drive up to a
nice little house and then we all get out and go
inside. Jake is inside, rolling some joints from
a mountain of weed. He had already rolled about
50 and stopped when we came in.