The Hitchhiker

     Since I've been unable to de-clutter and clean out the house recently, I've been doing what I can to keep from going stir crazy.  I'm more than a bit OCD at times and as my stress rises, my anxiety rises.  As my anxiety rises, my OCD gets worse.  As all three get worse, I find that cleaning helps.  Not just your every day kind of cleaning, but the tear everything apart, re-organize, throw out broken, I've been saying I'll fix that thing, donate stuff I haven't used in forever, but keep finding excuses to hang onto crap, and scrub the rest within an inch of their lives kind of cleaning.  Except I can't really do that.  My joints are too swollen, fatigue is an understatement, and pain is an understatement.  But I do a tiny bit at a time when I can to at least feel like I'm doing something.  Then I realized I can start doing the same thing online.  So I started with my Myspace account.  I can't remember the last time I used it, so I'm downloading pictures, posting some to my Facebook (trips I've taken, events I've attended, cool random pictures..), and ultimately deleting the account when I'm finished.  I'm downloading the pictures because three years ago, my hard drive crashed and I lost everything.  I kept meaning to buy an external hard drive to back everything up, BUT just never got around to it.  First thing I did after I replaced the hard drive?  Bought an external one to back up my files.  I admit it's been kinda cool (and sometimes bittersweet) to go through some older pics.  I found one today that made me burst out laughing.  The time I accidentally picked up a hitchhiker.  But it's not the kind you'd think.
     Before I finally won my disability case, I was on public assistance.  It really doesn't give you much to survive on.  It certainly doesn't provide enough for you to properly maintain your vehicle, let alone repair it properly, even if you're a mechanic who can get parts at cost and either fix it yourself or know those who can fix it (like a parent).  Naturally, I had a car that just loved to fall apart.  I became a master with duct tape, coat hangers, Gorilla glue, jerry-rigging, and I found 101 uses for vice grips (including using them in place of a manual window handle) and fence latches.  Yep.  Fence latches are for more than just screen doors and fences.  My car was THAT bad. 
   Scary thing?  My brother and nephew were back living at home. He was back in school and working full time and my nephew was in daycare.  And I was the one who was responsible for dropping him off at daycare.  In this car:

(aside from the dents that were all caused by family members, the exterior really doesn't look too bad, but beauty is only skin deep, right?)
     My nephew and I had our little ritual.  Every morning we'd stop by a local little stop, so I could buy a cup of coffee for me, a bottle of Nestle Quick for him (depending on his mood depended on whether it was vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry), and the store owner would give him a doughnut.  He'd only pick the sprinkles off and maybe take a bite out of it, but that was our thing.  I'd clean off my back seat about once a month and would throw out about an entire store's worth of stale doughnuts.  I had seat covers, so it didn't matter much to me. I had more important things to worry about than a doughnut and Cheerios mess.  Occasionally if my dog was in the car, I didn't even have to worry about it.  She'd take care of the mess for me.  It was doggie heaven--a car ride AND a ton of food!  Until I picked up a hitchhiker on my way home one day.
    I was about a mile from home one morning when a bear sauntered out in front of me.  I live in the woods, so it's not exactly abnormal.  I slammed on my brakes and waited for him (or her) to move.  His head came up to about the middle of the window and he was definitely taking his time, except he was walking towards my car.  Then he was ON my car.. up the hood, and onto the roof.  Great.  Then I realized:  My driver's side door was held shut with a hook and eye fence latch and I had over a month's worth of doughnuts and buttered rolls on my back seat.  And I panicked.  He may have been a tall bear, but he was a skinny bear.  Not good.  If he was a fat bear, I'd of given the car a bit of gas and let him bounce off the car unharmed.  But a skinny bear?  He'd probably get hurt if he hit the pavement.  And even though a sneeze from him would probably take the door off my car and I'd be lunch, I still didn't want to hurt him.  So I grabbed my cell phone and called the one person I thought could help:  my dad.
    He spent well over a decade working for the state's Fish & Game program, so he'd know how to handle this, or who I should call.  What the hell was I thinking.  By now I was in a dead panic and naturally, after I repeated myself 3 times (he thought I was kidding and I can't say I blame him, I would too) he bursts out laughing (if the roles were reversed, I'd of laughed too).  He said I should just take off and let him roll off my car, he'll be fine.  And even if he did break into my car, bears don't eat humans.  Right.  I really did NOT want to test that theory, even if there was a damn bakery in my back seat.  I hung up from him and tried to figure out what the hell to do as I noticed an oncoming SUV.  Finally some help!  Except not.  The woman actually started cursing at me!  Like I planned this!  If there wasn't a 300lb black bear standing on the roof of my car, I probably would've gotten out and smacked the hell out of her.  As it was, I rolled the window down a bit because by this point, she pulled up next to me and is ranting at me... something about feeding the bears.  Seriously?  Feeding them what?  Me?  Hey lady!  Here's Bobo, my circus bear!  Please feel free to stick your head in his mouth at anytime, jackass!  What the hell am I supposed to do?  I stopped to keep from running him over and THIS?  (I point to my roof) THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED!!  Then she realized I was in trouble.. asked me if I tried my horn or anything.  Well, I would have if the damn thing worked.  And proved it to her.  It let out this pathetic little bleat.  So she blew her horn.  And the bear fell off my roof.  Kind of.  He got stuck on my rear spoiler.  Of course he did!  But I thanked her.  Because at least then I knew if he hit the pavement (or hung on for dear life), he probably wouldn't get hurt that much closer to the ground.  She asked me what was I going to do if he was stuck on my trunk.  I told her I'd call the cops and have him tranquilized.  At least if he was stuck in my spoiler he couldn't rip my car door off.  I finally talked her into leaving me alone.  At least Bobo wasn't stuck and landed on all 4 paws.  I couldn't wait to get a new car.  I did, however make sure that until I did get a new car (with doors that closed without requiring $1.50 flimsy latches), to remove all food just in case Bobo ever tried to hitch a ride again.  I took this a few seconds before he tried to hitch a ride:

Looking at this picture now, I should've seen it coming.  Just look at his face... he was totally up to something.