Author Topic: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...  (Read 15775 times)

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Offline $1987 GN$

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #30 on: April 26 2011, 10:30:12 PM »
Quote from: "Charlief1 @ Tue Apr 26, 2011 9:04 pm"
Been almost 2 weeks now and even I'm looking forward to the end.


Who knows if he will end it yet. . .

AJ___

DCEPTCN

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #31 on: April 27 2011, 01:48:05 AM »
Sorry, work's been running me ragged. Gimme a few days (and thanks for giving a shit).

Offline Zap

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #32 on: April 27 2011, 04:19:29 PM »
Hurry up -- waiting for this to finish is my only raison d'
You can't get sweet shit outta a sour asshole

Offline SuperSix

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #33 on: April 27 2011, 04:50:59 PM »
Quote from: "Zap @ Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:19 pm"
Hurry up -- waiting for this to finish is my only raison d'
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Offline Zap

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #34 on: April 27 2011, 07:03:32 PM »
that and your facebook pics
You can't get sweet shit outta a sour asshole

Offline SuperSix

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #35 on: April 27 2011, 07:19:16 PM »
Quote from: "Zap @ Wed Apr 27, 2011 6:03 pm"
that and your facebook pics


<shiver>

"Little maps of Hawaii" is the phrase that comes to mind.
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DCEPTCN

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #36 on: May 01 2011, 07:07:34 PM »
To give you an idea of what time this was, I walked past a drive in movie theater that was showing Twister the next day on my way to get an Arch Deluxe from McDonald's.
   After that, I began walking. And walking. I remember the Bulletboys song "Mine" was stuck in my head for hours. Not sure why. It was hot that day, so my water bottle ran empty pretty quickly. Cars passed and passed but no brake lights to speak of. I was dying of thirst and my feet were killing me. I desperately needed to get to whatever the next town was, but all that was around was miles and miles of corn fields.
   An old boat of a car passed me two or three times, but I thought little of it. By the fourth time or so, it pulled over. There must've been 5 or 6 teenagers in this car, but those in the back slid over as best they could to make just a little bit more room so that I could get in. These kids had beer with them and they offered me one from the cooler. Now, I was never a drinker prior to my 21st, but I put that ice cold Keystone back in about 2.7 seconds. To this day, that's the best beer I ever had.
  After getting something to drink I guess I got a little more observant because I noticed the nervous look on the driver's face when he told me that they'd get me to the next town up the road just after he stopped by his grandmother's house. He hung a left down a dirt road that looked as if it went on forever. Further and further we drove into the fields towards "grandmother's house"  and with every mile I saw more and more looks passing between these kids that I read as "are you sure this is a good idea?". Maybe I was being paranoid, but with every acre deeper into the fields and every look between these kids looking more and more contemplative I got a little more curious as to what they had planned for me. I remembered that they had driven by numerous times before offering me a ride and for some reason that worried me even more- as if they'd been planning or working up some sort of nerve. Eventually the driver said that he could go to his grandmother's house later and all of his passengers seemed to sigh in relief. I suppose that included me. I'll never know what they had planned- maybe kicking the shit out of me, maybe just kicking me out of the car in the middle of nowhere, but I'm glad it was called off.
   The rides I got in the remainder of Ohio and through Pennsylvania were mercifully dull and before I knew it I was in Stroudsburg, PA. I'm not proud to say that I had to pull a Dine N Dash there at a Denny's, but trust me when I say that I've since payed it forward.
   Come morning, I sat on the I-80 eastbound on ramp for only a minute or two before a really cush conversion van pulled over and I was on my way. I wish I could remember the guy's name 'cause he really was cool. He worked as a door man for the Double Tree in Times Square and was headed to work. So, here was my final ride on my way to NYC. Along the way he told me that he really liked his van because his marriage was going down the tubes and he figured pretty soon he'd be living in the van and that was just fine by him. He gave me a few pointers on what parts of Manhattan were cool as well as which areas to avoid.
   There is a spot on I-80 where you crown a hill and the entire NYC skyline is visible. At that point I almost had trouble drawing a breath as I was totally awed. Maybe by the disbelief that I had made it the whole way, maybe just by the beauty of New York, but either way I could hardly contain my good cheer.
   I don't remember exactly where he let me out of the van, but it was somewhere in the jungle of midtown Manhattan. I wandered around for hours. Seriously, I don't know where the time went, but I just walked around getting a sore neck staring up at all the amazing buildings there.
   At some point someone told me about a shelter in the city not far away where I could sleep at night and I went to check the place out. Shortly after my arrival there, during the 'check in' process they routinely asked if I had any weapons. I answered honestly and was greatly saddened when I had to hand over Wayne Harrier's knife. I made my way into the cafeteria and wasn't shoveling food into my face for long before an enormous black girl set her tray next to mine and sat down. Without any sort of formal introduction she simply looked at me and asked, "Do you believe in interracial relationships?" and batted her eyelashes. I assured her that I had absolutely no problem with them and asked her to hold on as I stood up, I'd be right back. I walked over to the garbage can, dumped my tray off and set it on the nearby shelf and proceeded to walk right out the front fucking door. Honestly, I never saw the place again.
   As it began to get dark, I decided that I wanted to see the World Trade Center towers and so I began to walk southward. Although I don't remember now, I'm sure in distance it was a long walk but at no point did I tire of it. I marvelled at every place I saw- the gorgeous churches, the dance studios through the windows of which I could see people taking waltz classes, the news stands that seemed to carry every magazine on Earth. It was beautiful and I was overwhelmed by the joy that I felt for having made it all this way.
   You might think that I'm romanticizing this part due to later events, but I assure I'm not: When I got to the towers at the southern point of the island I was absolutely floored. Even though I'd seen many a skyscraper in my day, had even been to the top of the Sears, I was dumbstruck by the enormity and beauty of the twin towers. I'm not sure how long I just stood there in place staring upward, but it was a good while before I could take my eyes away from them. That might be my favorite memory of the trip given what would happen years later. (The last time that I passed through New York was September 27th, 2001 and I was sick to my stomach to see that even then a black cloud still rose from the southern tip of the island).
   After that, began to make my way back north again. I didn't really have a destination, but headed north taking in the sights. I passed through Greenwich and Washington Square, I eventually saw the Empire State building, everything was so exciting.
   At some point after meandering aimlessly for hours I happened upon the Ed Sullivan theater. That was a big deal for me, but nearby I saw light emanating from the other side of buildings and I had no idea what it was. Seriously, it looked like Las Vegas was just around the corner. Next thing I knew, I was standing in Times Square and nearly shitting myself in disbelief.    
   I was standing in front of the McDonald's there when I heard music and turned to see a music video being filmed atop a flatbed trailer. Months later I would see this very video on MTV (it was by NAS) and wait for the McDonald's angle in order to see myself in it but they of course blurred the shots around the edges.
   I could go on forever with the stories of everything I saw, but that's not relevant to the story. What is is that I sat on a fire hose hookup near the McDonald's just to rest my feet and someone approached from my left. I don't remember what he said, but I remember that it took forever for him to spit it out because he was the worst stutterer I'd ever met. His name was Richard and we sat and shitshot for quite a while. Over the next two weeks or so, Richard and I would spend a lot of time hanging out together simply because one is safer on the streets of NYC if he's got a little backup.
  He and I would panhandle in Times Square most of the day. On a good day you could make around $200 if you felt like sitting on the sidewalk for a few hours holding a sign. I would sit there and watch all the scammers do it right alongside me. (more)...

DCEPTCN

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #37 on: May 01 2011, 09:05:50 PM »
There was the guy who had a sign begging people to help him feed his dog. That dude made HUNDREDS of dollars a day doing that. In the couple of weeks time that I was there I think he went through two or three puppies. The was the greatly disfigured man who would be dropped off by his family around the corner each morning. They would help him out of the Lexus and push his wheelchair to his spot in front of the Sbarro's and then return in the evening to pick him up.
   Needless to say, it wasn't New Yorkers who would hand out all that money to beggars, just poor stupid tourists who, I guess, felt that it was part of the authentic NY vacation experience.
   Every day Richard and I would make enough money to eat well, get a pack of smokes and maybe even go see a movie...but I was never able to scare up enough dough to get a damned hotel room- they're expensive as hell there as you might presume. Every evening we'd head west to the Hudson. I *think* it was pier 84, but I can't remember for certain. There was a Naval museum right next to there. We'd sneak down the pier in the evening and climb over the side so that when security would ride down the length of it in his golfcart he wouldn't see us. He'd then go back and close the fence, padlocking it for the night. At this point we'd climb back up and have the pier to ourselves in relative safety until morning. After washing our socks in the river (hard to say if that made them cleaner or dirtier) we'd pass out cold and wake up in the morning with a few people fishing around us.
   One afternoon I was sitting in front of McDonald's making some money when two young girls came and sat down next to me. They were runaways from somewhere in Canada and told the stories of what they'd had to do to get rides to New York from where they lived...much of which I could've done without hearing. Well, Richard came by later and took a liking to these girls and invited them to come to the pier with us that night despite me begging him to shut up and trying to tell him how icky these two were.
   That evening, the four of us chatted in the dark of the pier, staring north at the George Washington bridge. One of the two girls was as butch and ugly as you could imagine and the other was cute as a damned button...or would be if I hadn't been made aware of the things she'd done. I got tired of watching Richard try to talk his way between the lesbians, so I walked up the pier to be alone with my thoughts. It was only a minute or two before the pretty one followed me and tried to make conversation. Now, I was being polite but I didn't honestly think that I'd said anything nice enough to convince this girl to ask if I wanted to see her tits. "Um, sure...?" is how I responded. So, she pulled up her shirt and waited for my appraisal. When I said something like, "not bad" she seemed happy despite my contrived disinterest. Looking at boobs was one thing, but I wanted none of whatever this girl had. That's why you might be surprised to hear that the next morning I awoke to her butch girlfriend screaming at me with a knife in her hand. "Were you trying on my girlfriend?!" she asked as I rubbed my eyes and tried to understand what was going on. "I'll fucking kill you if I ever again hear that you're trying on my girlfriend!" I wanted to tell her that I was, according to their own stories, the only person in North America who *hadn't* throatfucked her girfriend lately, but I kept it to myself.
   I would, days later after the two had moved on, see them with some guy and both dressed very well all of a sudden. I hoped like hell they weren't doing what I thought they were...  (more)

DCEPTCN

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #38 on: May 01 2011, 09:06:17 PM »
I learned early on that you can get handshakes from celebrities if you waited by the side entrance of the Ed Sullivan theater for guests to leave. I got a handshake from Will Smith one day doing just that. Actors were everywhere- I chased down David Allan Grier one day despite the look on his face that begged me to avoid doing just that. Tim Robbins rollerbladed past me one day in the 'Square. At some point I decided to go to the GE tower and see if I could meet Conan O'Brien. Man, I stood in that lobby forever. Even after realizing that I had to pee like hell I still waited and waited. Andy Richter came down pretty soon after their taping was over and signed my little autograph book. He was a truly gracious and friendly guy, so I'm a big fan to this day. Conan, on the other hand, had me waiting for a couple of hours in that lobby doing the pee dance. After what seemed an eternity, the bell chimed and the elevator door opened. There was Conan with an entourage of sort and they were playing a bizarre clapping game. For some reason everyone in the party had to keep clapping the same pattern over and over. He walked past me either not noticing my attempt to get his attention or pretending such. I, having stood there for hours, was not letting him off the hook and spoke up, "Mr. O'Brien, do you think I could please get an autograph?". You'd have thought I'd asked him to help me change a flat tire. He sighed and rolled his eyes, giving his people a "hold on" look. TO his credit, I did get a laugh when he told me that I would have to start clapping the pattern for him while his hands were busy signing my book. I walked out the front door right behind him ad his party and heard him say something about me when he was climbing into his limo. I honestly don't remember what he said, but it ticked me off enough to vow never to watch his show again, so it must've been pretty rude.
   Over the next few days I rode the subway alot, just seeing the sights. Sometimes I'd end up somewhere I really didn't want to be and after dark no less, but for the most part it was alot of fun. Did you know that subway tokens are interchangeabl e with cash? At least they were at that time, I bought many a soda in corner delis with subway tokens.
   My favorite subway memory is having an entire car to myself one morning at sunrise somewhere (I believe) in the vicinity of Coney Island. What a treat.
   There were gay actors who'd come out of the theaters on Broadway and boldfacedly offer me money for "a date". Lots of creeps like that, but overall I had a great time.
   I went to the Plaza Hotel and got a brochure...som ehow the guy at the desk didn't laugh as he handed a paper to a kid in a backpack that advertised rooms that went for $20,000 a night. I also made sure to go wander around the Waldorf Astoria for a bit. Not sure how I managed that without having security throw my dirty ass out, but I did it. I made a wish at a fountain out front that I still remember from time to time.    
   At one point apparently Marilyn Manson was taking a hiatus from touring and stayed right there at the Double Tree hotel. He and Twiggy Ramirez would leave about 6 or 7 pm and then barely be able to stumble through the front door after the sun had come up. I bought a MM CD at the virgin Megastore and got it signed. One evening, Twiggy walked out the front door of the hotel with a massive wad of cash in his hand and didn't just walk to the curb for a taxi, he walked right out into traffic. I don't know what he was on, but I helped hail him a cab and suggested he keep that much cash in his pocket...he muttered unintelligible gibberish to me that I assumed could have been a thank you.
   One day a kid in a Marilyn Manson t-shirt was giving me a dollar as I panhandled near the hotel entrance. I smiled and asked him, "you a pretty big fan?". His face lit up and he assured me that he was the biggest. I chuckled and pointed behind him. He got a curious look on his face and I pointed again. He turned reluctantly and saw that MM was standing not 10 feet behind him. Boy did that kid shit himself!
   At the same time the band Dead Or Alive was staying there as well. You might not believe it, but they were even creepier looking than the Manson clan. I had never heard  of them, but when their bass player gave me $5 I promised myself that I'd buy one of their CDs one day. Imagine my surprise when I did just that only to find out that those wierd looking fucks were responsible for the "you spin me right 'round...like a record baby" song.
   At one point I was at the Virgin Megastore and was taking the esclator up when I noticed that Dave Grohl was behind me. He was with a girl and I really didn't want to be a pest. What was the stupidest thing I've ever said? Well, probably right then when I turned around and asked Mr. Grohl, "Can I just shake your hand and say goodbye?" Real smooth under pressure, that stupid Albertus is. Naturally, he reached out, shook my hand and said "goodbye!". Kinda asked for that one, I did.    
   Another fine example of a lapse of judgement was when a very regular-looking guy told Richard and I that we were welcome to go up to his hotel room if we needed a shower. He even had a pizza sent up to the room for us. I got out of the shower and Richard, sitting at the table says, "Ask me how I know he's a faggot." I told him that he was being rude after this guy had been so generous to us, but he just handed me a guide to NYC gay hotspots. So, we ate all of that motherfucker's pizza and got the hell out of Dodge before he even showed up. On the way out it appeared that there was  huge French field trip staying in that same hotel. All the girls were hanging out of their doorways, giggling and saying God-knows-what about us in French. We told ourselves it was something along the lines of, "Look, American boys!" but I suspect it was more like "Wow, how did two people that filthy get into such a nice hotel?" Their teacher ushered them back into their rooms with a scolding tone and Richard and I took the elevator back to the street.
   Richard had somehow gotten an honest to goodness girlfriend (one with money, no less) so I found myself walking around giant rats on my own more and more frequently. It was the day that I saw a particular bum that I realized it was time to go home. He was sleeping and wasn't awoken despite the fact that he was crawling with roaches. His clothing was literaly undulating with cockroahes- they crawled in and out of his nostrils, his ears and his slightly open mouth and yet he was apparently so accustomed to it that he could sleep through it without it bothering him.
   It was at that moment that I decided I didn't want to stay here long enough to get comfortable. Someone told me about an agency called Travelers' Aid that would buy anyone a bus ticket to anywhere in the country. So, I got my ticket that was for one week from then and counted days 'til I got on that bus. I would put it every night in my shoe and lace it up extra tight because I was terrified of losing my way home.
   I spent the next week just as I had the previous two- I played harmonica (read: tried to) on the rocks in Central Park, I chased down famous people whenever I saw them, I went to the top of every building that I was allowed into...but by this time the excitement was wearing off. Even if I had gotten pictures of 1000 Flatiron Buildings it wouldnt have renewed my fascination. New York is a wonderful city and I hope to visit it again someday, but holy shit i swear to god you'd go crazy if you stayed there.
   I wanted to go back to little Ruth Nevada where people knew my name. Where, if you fell down dead in the middle of the street someone would actually notice. Where I wouldn't be passed on the street by ten or more post-op trannys. Where black people wouldn't tell me that I must be an idiot sleeping on the street because all white people are born with a silver spoon stuck up thier ass so there's no excuse for any of them to be poor. Okay, that last one was only one guy, lol.
   When the day came, I told Richard that I wished him luck. He tried to convince me to "s...st..s..s..sta-ay" but I told him about the guy covered in cockroaches and how I was afraid that if I didn't get out soon I'd get stuck there forever. I think he thought that I was lumping him together with all the shit I saw in NY (and maybe I was), so he said goodbye and almost stomped off down the sidewalk at the Port Authority. I wonder how he's doing.
   I had found $40 on the sidewalk, so I bought a Walkman, some batteries and what was then the brand new Pantera album, "The Great Southern Trendkill". Climbing into my Greyhound seat, I hit 'play' and fell asleep. Honestly, I don't remember being awake even once during that bus ride from NYC to Las Vegas, but the song "Floods" will always sound like New York to me.
   I got off the bus in Vegas and ended up kind of stranded at the Stratosphere for a day because my buddy Josh's car's motor blew on his way down from Ruth to come pick me up. A very nice old gal bought me lunch and bummed me cigarettes until Josh showed up...with his friend's sister driving. (She worked at Cheetah's and had a huge chest, so everybody just called her "Tits").
   Within a few weeks I had a new girlfriend, a new apartment and what seemed like a normal life again, but I never forgot the lessons I had learned on my semi-suicidal trip to NY and back. To tell the truth, although it has been obviously trimmed down quite a bit here (I'm sure I've forgotten alot), I think this is the first time I've ever told this story 'cause...well, who gives a shit to hear old stories? Thanks for reading, guys- I'm glad I finally got this old tale off of my chest.

Offline SuperSix

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #39 on: May 01 2011, 09:27:03 PM »
BRAVO!!!!!

Kick ass story, Sylvan, thanks for taking the time to type it out - I appreciate it.
'87 GN, 60lb, TA49, THDP, FTP cam, T+ lots o' shit - SOLD
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'20 Kubota BX2380. FEL, 60" deck
'78 IH/Case 184 Lo-Boy
'99 Kawasaki Bayou 400 4x4

Offline gbsean

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #40 on: May 01 2011, 09:40:35 PM »
awesome...nice B-day reading...hope it continues

Offline Charlief1

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #41 on: May 01 2011, 09:55:11 PM »
Almost like a confesional but very interesting. Thanks for sharing, really. :supz:
And remember, when dealing with children, silence may be golden but duct tape is silver.

Offline Steve Wood

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My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #42 on: May 02 2011, 11:41:17 AM »
great story...you have seen more of life than most of us....you strong enuf to do that, then you are strong enuf to overcome any other adversity!

thanks for sharing with us.  :)
Steve Wood

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Offline Spoolin'

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #43 on: May 02 2011, 09:58:29 PM »
Sylvan, I owe you a couple beers. And none of that Keystone Light shit, either!!

DCEPTCN

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Re: My hitch-hiking trip across the country...
« Reply #44 on: May 02 2011, 10:55:08 PM »
I thought it was kinda cool that I had my moment above regarding the WTC...just to turn around a bit later and find out that Ol' Turtlebait had been smoked.

 

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