She Asked For A Ride, I Said No
Posted on January 2, 2014
So on the first day of 2014 a girl asked me for a ride and I said no.
I drove down to Gary, Indiana, to help someone with a documentary he’s working on. It was a quiet, wintry day in murder city. I got lost while looking for an address and was deciding whether or not to turn onto 5th Avenue when on that street a bundled up black girl started running towards me waving her arm. I rolled down my window as she drew closer and asked me if I could give her a ride to Broadway (several blocks down 5th). I said I couldn’t, that I wasn’t going that way and was late for something. And I apologized. She shrugged and went on her way.
A couple of things:
- I probably should not have even rolled down the window as she came up to my vehicle and just drove off.
- I don’t even think I’d trust an old, one-legged woman in this blighted city and it’s high murder-per-capita rate.
- She either simply wanted a ride, that she was late to catch a bus, and does this frequently – ask strangers for a lift.
- She planned to shiv me once she got in the car.
- She had a male partner or two lurking around ready to pounce on some sucker who stopped to assist a girl.
- She wanted a ride, but would have asked for money in exchange for sexual favors on the way.
- She wanted a ride, but would have asked for sexual favors with no money changing hands because I’m that alluring.
- If she was holding a six-pack of a good craft beer, I’d probably take her anywhere.
Now had I been in Bucktown or Lincoln Park, and some Anne Hathaway-looking gal with the Catwoman hair was running towards me asking for a lift – you bet I’d give her one. That’s just the way it is.
I wonder if that girl was anyone else she came across for a ride. With the weather and the holiday, it was pretty quiet out there. Assuming she lives right there in murder city, why would she ask a total stranger if she could enter his car? Is it my innocent, good-looking Irish looks that did it? The fact I drive a Jeep? A Jeep is very welcoming to the female population.
Once, while at the University of Illinois, a coed in a band uniform saw me stopped and asked for a lift to the game. I gave her one. And met up with her later that night. You know how a cheerleading uniform can make any girl look good (almost)? I used to say put the hottest girl in a band outfit and her shape will become distorted and unsightly. Not so much with U of I girl. (And no, I didn’t let her put her instrument in the bad place. Not that night, anyway).
Either way, the year begins for yours truly with a gal asking to get in my Jeep with me. I’ll take that as a good sign of things to come for 2014.
(Coming next: You’re The Weird Girl, I’m The Asshole)