Monday, November 7, 2011
I do maintain a second blog; tertiarythoughts. On this blog I don't write on consistent basis. I don't always do things like proofread, nor do I always have an intended purpose for sharing. However, maybe it will help fill the void from me writing less on here.
Thanks Sean. Good to know at least one person misses the regularity of my column.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
We all had various hobbies while we were in college. I played poker, played ultimate Frisbee, watched stand-up comedy, and picked up hitchhikers walking home from jail. Typical college stuff.
I still remember how it all began. At first I just saw a few other students sitting at the bus stop and I offered them a ride back in to town. Then one day I saw a couple of guys walking the side of the road. They were young adult males, white, tattoos, one of them wearing a wife-beater. I remember trying to describe it to my girlfriend at the time and as I struggled for words, “they weren’t exactly the type of guys…” she interrupted, “that you should pick up.” I responded, “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted you to pick them up.”
They hopped in to my 1986 Nissan pick-up with extra cab. One of them had to sit sideways in the back on the little square that folded down to make something resembling a seat. So I asked them with complete sincerity where they were coming from, and they responded, “We just got out of jail.”
At this point I hadn’t even realized I had passed a jail, so I paused before continuing the conversation. How should I respond here? Do I ask, “What were you in for?” Either one of these guys was significantly bigger than me, and there were two of them. Did I really want to know what they were in for? But… we only live once.
Turned out they were just in for some graffiti misdemeanor, or so they claimed. That was the start of my inmate education. I learned the cab ride back to town cost about $20. The prison that I had seen on the other side of the highway that we had yet to pass was a completely different facility. Little did I know that on my 6.5-mile daily commute to school I passed a prison and a jail.
That began my hobby of giving rides to convicts. Maybe another time I can tell you about the kid getting transferred from one jail to the next, or the time I picked up a couple, or the guy in for skipping out on a restaurant bill, or the time I picked up a 300-pound guy and another 6’4” guy on the same day, or…
Click here to read more about the SLO prison.