So, there’s this hitchhiker I met in high school. We’ll call him Dennis. Not to protect his innocence, but because that’s his name. I didn’t meet him when he was hitchhiking. I met him at the counter at a diner. I only know that he’s a hitchhiker because I see him hitchhiking all the time now. He always starts out in front of the police station here in our little town. He’s wearing the same sports coat every day that he was wearing when I met him 15-20 years ago. Even when it’s 103 degrees outside. It’s a corduroy blazer. It’s very important to look professional when thumbing for rides in front of a jail in 103-degree heat.
In another time in my life, maybe I would pick him up. But now I have children and a distinct want to not be murdered, so I don’t. I would pick him up because I want to hear stories he would tell. Since I won’t really pick him up and hear his real stories, I’m just going to make up some fake stories that he might tell me and post them here from time to time.
To recap: Dennis is real. His stories aren’t.
Here’s some stuff I imagine Dennis might say to folks who gave him a ride:
Hey, there. I’m Dennis. Thanks for offering me a ride. I’m headed up to the south side landfill to dispose of this human toe. A body was found, and I can’t keep this trophy anymore. It’s a bummer. It’s one of the better toes in my collection. I’m pretty sure she used Jamberry nails on this thing. The polish has definitely lasted a lot longer than some of the other painted toes. Though, this isn’t as great as that toe with the diamond toe ring that I got in 1974. I’ll be really crushed when that body shows up. Unfortunately, due to decay, the ring has gotten a little large for the toe. Perhaps I should get it sized. Can you drop me at the jewelry store, first? The one next to the dry cleaner. I need to get my sports coat cleaned.