You arrive at a promontory spot and set up your thumb shop to bear blessed pick-up tokens. Happy and full of expectancy, you listen to the soft-tone crunch of gravel beneath your foot. You earlier declined a ride home because of your beliefs in car entrapment. But, here you are again, jutting out your fare while car after car passes, littered with sparse hurried glances.
Entertainment sparks a match, each car reacts differently, breezing by.
Some chortle as they round a corner training a bead on you. Some look you up and down filing you away among the cranks and gaskets. Others slink past, sheepish grins protruding from their fenders, but from none can you expect a screeching stop and an open door to bear you to your destination. You think up dramatic reasons to occupy your tired mind. Maybe the accelerating cars pass you by because you defiantly uprooted a parking ticket from the dash of a more earmarked ticket-bearing car and transplanted it to a rose garden of dirty back roads.