14/06/11: Tuesday Again
I don't even know what this is. But it was pretty fun. And they're both over one hundred words, but only by thirty words each or so. I'm getting there!
Two versions of the same story.
1
“Hey, thanks, man.” I grinned as I slid into the seat. Then, the ultimate hitch-hiking icebreaker (I’ve perfected it): “You’re not a crazy axe-murderer, right?”
The guy looked amused enough.
“Nope.”
It was only meant to be a quick hitch from DeKalb to Aurora. He picked me up in a beat-up ex-police car and man, was I happy. How was I meant to know he was a total fucking psycho? He was dressed kinda funny but it wasn’t dodgy or anything. Suit and hat. Whatever floats his boat, I guess.
He braked so hard I nearly put my head through the windscreen. “What the shit, man?!”
He was nuts, man. Total loony. And now here I am again, walking like a chump with my thumb up.
Crazy bastard.
2
Hitch-hikers are usually OK. I pick ‘em up ‘cause I like to think the favour’d be returned. Yeah, karma is total bullshit, but sometimes ya can’t help but have a little faith. ‘Sides, it was on my way.
Shoulda known better than to pick up a guy in a backwards baseball cap.
The song was “Wish Someone Would Care” by Irma Thomas. Voice of an angel, that one. Soulful, too. Perfect. And what does Baseball Cap say?
“The fuck is this old shit?”
The cars behind could honk all they liked. This guy wasn’t going another yard in my car.
“What the shit, man?!”
I find using the calmest voice possible always works in these situations.
“Ya know when I said I wasn’t a crazy axe-murderer?”
“…yeah?”
“I was lying.”