I was on the way back from vacation and had spent the last of my money the night before on a motel room and breakfast. After leaving my change as a tip I went onto the highway headed east.
A truck pulled over. I have hitchhiked many miles through all parts of the country but had only had a semi tractor trailer pick me up once before. I knew of their vast distances traveled and I also knew that having access to a trucker's CB radio could also mean more rides.
But with this trucker it was not the case. He didn't use his CB. He was an older man, in his late forties or fifties. A bit scrawny looking with white hair. He was friendly and casual as we started off. I quickly found out he was going to Oklahoma City, which was a full day's ride across some of the most desolate highway in the country. I sat back to enjoy my luck.
My ride, however, had other plans. After an hour or so of polite conversation, he turned the topic to sex. At first it was pretty simple—he asked me about girlfriends and sexual experiences. Then he asked about any experience with boys. With each passing mile he got more and more perverted.
He had a point. He finally explained what he wanted me to do. It didn't sound that bad, actually—and the fact that he was offering money made it seem a bit more interesting—it was as if he knew that I had none. Part of me began to wonder if I would be willing to do such a thing for what the money would give me.
I contemplated his offer for a bit while I thought over the logistics. I knew I was going to be put into an environment that would be difficult to control and that he would press me for more when the moment came. I decided that I didn't want to do something like that, so I politely declined.
Unfortunately my ride was very persistent. In normal circumstances I would finally tell him to let me off but there were two factors to consider: He was going to Oklahoma City, a long drive, and on the prevoious week I spent a miserable day on the very same stretch of highway unable to get a ride. I had no desire to spend time in some small high plains exit again.
So I fenced with him all morning and most of the afternoon. I heard stories of what he did to other hitchhikers. He offered me a job as a tarp handler and promised me a lot of good loving on the top of some cold mountain passes. Finally, shortly after crossing into Oklahoma, he said he had to take a piss and pulled over. I wondered if he was going to ditch me, but I had to go too so I jumped out and peed. He then took that moment to relieve his condition. I politely watched as it was the least I could do for a thousand mile ride.
When he climbed back into the cab he didn't talk sex anymore, but then seemed to lapse into some CW McCall character, telling me of trucking stories about being overweight and driving through snow. He let me off near a trucking terminal on the wrong side of Oklahoma City, where I paid for my principles by sleeping in a treeline between two fields. It was too windy to cook and a cold front moved in an hour or so later to add to my misery.