In Which I Lock My Doors

Last week, The Boss reminded me of a story that I am surprised I haven't written about here yet. It was one of those things that I've never heard of happening to anyone else, and like a lot of things I experience, it seems it could have only happened to me. 

It happened a couple of summer's ago, while driving home from visiting The Boss at her parents house. I was cruising along the same tired roads I'd covered many times before, with the windows down and the music up. I was on auto-pilot, driving mindlessly and enjoying the warmth, but snapped back to reality when I saw there was a construction zone ahead.

As I eased on the brakes to slow down, I noticed two girls standing on the side of the road. They were probably close to my age, if not a little older, dressed very skimpily, sporting too-small bikini tops and short cut-off denim shorts. As I approached them, they smiled and stuck out their thumbs. They were hitchhiking. 

While this might seem to some like a guy's wet dream, I didn't even consider picking them up. You never know what could happen these days, and I wasn't going to take that risk. I drove past them, not giving it a second thought. Just down the road from them I came to a stop, waiting my turn to drive through the construction zone. 

Suddenly, the door to the backseat opened up, and the two hitch-hooker's climbed in. 

"Thanks, Mister!" one of them said as she buckled herself in. 

"Yeah, thanks! You were the only one to stop all afternoon," the other one chimed in. 

I sat there in shock, not believing what was happening. They continued settling in, and the first one spoke again.

"We're trying to get to Windham. Are you headed in that direction?"

I stumbled over my words for a minute before I managed, "No, I'm headed towards Auburn, but-"

"Oh, that's fine. Just drop us off at the 202/302 rotary," the second one said. "We'll walk the rest of the way from there."

"No, you don't understand," I said at last, turning to face them. "I wasn't stopping to pick you guys up."

They looked back at me, confused. 

"I was stopping because of the construction ahead." I gestured through the windshield. The flagger holding the Stop/Slow sign not far from where I had stopped was looking back at us, eyes wide. 

"Oh," they said in unison. 

A pause.

"So... you're not going to give us a ride?" the first one asked. "You're going to be driving right through the rotary."

"No, I really can't. I'm sorry for the confusion," I said. I didn't truly feel sorry.

"Fine." They sighed in annoyance as they gathered their purses and got out of my car. Just before they slammed the door closed, I heard one of them mutter Bastard under their breath.

With the hitch-hooker's out of the car, I looked up at the construction flagger. He spun the sign around to Slow, and before I put my car in gear to pull away, I locked my doors. The flagger shrugged at me as I drove by, and I shook my head in response. 

I couldn't believe it, and still can't believe it actually happened. I keep my doors locked now when I drive. 

Just in case.