Why Not Just Walk?
I don’t understand hitchhikers.
On my way to take the dog to the vet — and this time I got great news: no surgery needed at the moment after all — there was a guy I’d never seen before a few hundred feet from the entrance to the apartment community.
He was waving at cars that passed by, headed out of the property, and then gesturing towards the left, apparently asking for a ride in that direction.
When the car several lengths ahead of me passed him, he just stood there, waiting for me. When I passed him, he just stood there, waiting for the next car. There wasn’t a car behind me, and I had a few seconds of a clear view of him. He was just standing there, waiting for another car.
He could at least have walked toward the entrance of the property. That would get him farther along in the direction he wanted to go. Sure, August in South Carolina is not the most comfortable time to have to walk somewhere, but in refusing to make any effort at all, that seemed like some sort of red flag.
Wherever he needed to go, it clearly wasn’t an emergency.