One of life’s Catch 22’s:
The only way as an adult male I could successfully hitchhike was when I wore a military uniform. But hitchhiking in uniform was strictly prohibited by the military.
(I spent a lot of leave time going Greyhound)
It was Halloween.
I was wearing my dad’s dress greens from when he was in the Army. A lady friend was wearing some shimmery white number with fairy wings. And then the two other guys in the car (one punk, one preppie) had pretty much traded clothes.
We’re trying to find another friend so we were cruising behind a club accosting pedestrians if they’d seen anyone in a yellow chicken suit and a purple bikini come this way.
One guy (well, actually most of the people that responded) tried to sell us drugs, and he had a lovely prepared spiel that he rattled off (“milky crystals and FAT red and orange hairs!”). And then he listened to our question. Then he asked for a ride.
And soon, he was comfortably ensconced between the punk-dressed preppy friend and the gossamer wing’d fairy… both who looked rather skeeved by the whole affair. Meanwhile our new passenger continues going on about the drugs he has or can get for us, are we sure we don’t want anything, and gives us a rundown on the recent market fluctuations in the drug trading business.
Then he asks us to let him out at a gas station near his requested destination, and that was that.
Why not hold up a sign reading: US Military–I need a lift? 
You’ve seen those panahndlers with post-moderist sensibility signs “Why lie - I need money for beer?”
Hitchiker with sign: “Why Lie? I want to scalp your pubis to make a wallet”
As many may remember I operated a long haul semi rig for 24 years. I would sometimes give someone a ride, usually picking them up at a truck stop, w/ little trouble. I think the last time I picked up hitchhikers was about 15 years ago. I was on 395 north of Victorville, Ca. and saw a young couple carrying a small baby. It was a very hot summer day, so I decided to give them a ride, mostly because of the baby. They were only going a couple of miles, so I figured it was not a big deal. WRONG! Within a short distance the pickup begins dogging my truck. Turns out that the guy in my truck was the gals boyfried and one of the guys in the P/U was her husband and the baby’s father. I think they wanted to try to make me stop, but they soon figured out that wasn’t going to happen. Before we got to the couple’s destination, I got on the C.B. and raised a base station, who inturn called the cops. When we stopped, the three guys came over and tried to get the boyfriend out of my truck, but I locked the doors and told them that the cops were coming. They didn’t believe me until the cop car arrived and then there was much backpeddling and BSing about the situation. The cop asked me and I explained it to him, then he ran the P/U off and gave the couple w/ the baby a ride to their ultimate destination. I decided to forgo doing anymore hitchhiker favors, although I’d probably pickup someone w/ a baby.
Nope, that’s it! Belcourt Apartments. It’s at Osborn, so if that’s the one you pass, that’s me. 