Nobody hitchhikes anymore, I thought as I drove by him.
Particularly nobody that age.
He had on one of those old square cut baseball caps with the mesh sides, a thin, faded t-shirt and pants that were held up over his Buddha belly by suspenders. On his feet were a beat up pair of old cowboy boots and hanging from his shoulder was a canvas bag of some sort. To top it all off he was leaning on a cane.
But there he stood, his free arm stretched straight out in front of him, thumb raised as if to say,
“You better believe it, this old man wants a ride.”
It was 100+ degrees out. I couldn’t leave him there. I made a u-turn and went back to get him.
Turned out, the old hitchhiker was 86-years-old, his daughter had taken his car keys away from him…