Teach
12-18-2013, 07:42 AM
Hitchhiking: Never Again!
I was frightened. Make that very frightened. I was shaking. I felt - at the very least - that I might have to perform, under duress, an unnatural act. At the very most - my life could be at stake.
Yet, it all started out innocently enough. The rotary phone in our third-floor apartment in the Dorchester section of Boston rang. My mother, who was preparing supper, said, “Walt, would you see who that is?” I picked up the phone. "Hi Walter," the coquettish voice at the other end said, "it's Ann." It's for me, Ma," I called out. "What a pleasant surprise!" I thought to myself.
Well, Ann, then a high school senior, went on to tell me that she was babysitting in West Roxbury and was looking for company. I told her I would be happy to come over. "What time?" I asked. Ann told me between 7:30 and 8:00. Before she hung up, Ann gave me the specific address.
But, I thought, how was I to get there? I didn't own a car. I didn't have access to one. It was too far for me to take a cab. Public transportation might take up to a couple hours.
It was then that I decided to call one of my friends. As it turns out, he said he could help me out and asked what time I wanted him to swing by. I told him 7:30.
Well, at 7:30, my buddy arrived. In a matter of fifteen minutes, we had arrived about a block away from where Ann was babysitting. I thanked my friend for helping me out and then proceeded to walk the rest of the way to the house where Ann was babysitting.
As I approached the house, I was a bit anxious. Had the couple that Ann was babysitting for left? I didn't want to ring the doorbell. I figured that might wake up any young children who might be sleeping. So, after a bit of hesitation, I lightly tapped on the door. Seconds later, Ann opened the door. She looked nice. White blouse. Black dress. She did have a pleasantly plump figure. Yet, she was very well endowed. 44-D cup.
I remember Ann asked me to sit down on the couch next to her. She was talking on the phone with a friend. Frankly, I found it exciting just to sit so close to her. She had this way of energizing me.
Well, she was on the phone for about ten minutes when she finally hung up. We started talking. But that quickly gravitated to kissing and petting. I must admit I found Ann an exciting woman. Very exciting. She was outgoing, lively and fun-loving.
I would during the course of the evening unbutton Ann's white blouse, unhook her bra and see and experience first-hand Ann's "girls".
Over the course of the next hour or so, we carried on our love-fest. If it hadn't been for the fact that there were two young children sleeping upstairs...who knows? There was no carnal knowledge. Even after all these years, I remember it as a steamy, passionate evening.
It was now close to 10 p.m. The couple that Ann was babysitting for said they'd be back by 11 p.m. The last thing I wanted, for both our sakes, was for the couple to walk in on us. I'm sure they would have asked me, "What the hell are you doing here?"
So, a little after 10 p.m. I decided to call it an evening. I kissed Ann good-night and headed for the West Roxbury Parkway (I had, at that moment, thought about calling a cab, but I was a relatively poor guy and I wanted to conserve what little cash I had).
So, I started walking. I walked for about a half-mile and then started thumbing.
I'd say about five minutes later, a car stops just ahead of me. I ran up to it. "Where you headed?" the man inside asks. I say, "Dorchester". "Morton Street," I added. The man then says, "Hop in. I'm headed that way."
Seconds later, we're headed south toward Morton Street. Within a minute, the guy who picked me up starts telling me about his sexual exploits. He's graphically discussing the female anatomy. I immediately sense where this is going. What all this leading up to. I remember, at that moment, tensing up.
As we head toward Blue Hill Ave, not far from where I live,, this guy is pulling out all the stops. This is his best attempt at verbal seduction. I guess today we might put it under the heading of in-person "phone sex". In addition, I can see he's eyeing me like a hungry lion looks at a zebra. I'm frightened. More so then I think I've been in my entire life. I'm sliding over as to close to the passenger door as I can get.
Well, we're now crossing Blue Hill Ave. We're less than a mile from my apartment. My heart is racing. All kinds of thoughts are running through my head. Will he let me off, or will he force himself on me. The possibility of getting killed is another thought that crosses my mind. The guy in the driver's seat continues to spew out a never-ending stream of sexual chatter. My muscles are tense. My mouth is dry. I'm scared, but I know I've got to keep my wits about me.
Well, we're now crossing Norfolk Street, just past the Roger Wolcott Elementary School. I tell the guy that I live at the corner of the next street. But he doesn't appear to be stopping. I'm thinking, "Is he carrying a weapon? A knife? A gun?" We now go over the RR tracks and are heading down the street toward my apartment. It's only a few hundred yards, now. He doesn't appear to be slowing down. I then blurt out, "You know this is kidnapping! You can spend the rest of your life in prison for this!" The guy slows down, somewhat. Not to complete stop as he's now past my apartment building.
At that moment, I decide, "This it it!" I can't determine how fast this guy's car is going - maybe five to ten miles per hour - but I've got to take a chance. I pull up the button, open the passenger door (thank goodness there were no electric door locks) and leap to the sidewalk (I can only imagine what leaping from a train must be like). Thankfully, I wasn't hurt (a scrape or two). I quickly jumped to my feet and ran a 100-yard dash that would have made my old high school track coach proud.
Well, as soon as I reached the steps to my apartment building, I looked back. He wasn't coming. I then ran up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I quickly closed the door behind me.
I remember my mother saying, "Walt, you're out of breath, is anything wrong?" Well, even in this time of peril, and as so to not alarm my mother, I said, "Must be out of shape, Ma."
After that incident, I vowed that I'd never hitchhike again. Yet, frankly, I did break my own rule a year later by hitchhiking from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to Jacksonville.
Yet, since that one occasion in Florida in 1964, I've never hitchhiked, again. I certainly learned my lesson. I figured I came very close to not getting another chance.
I was frightened. Make that very frightened. I was shaking. I felt - at the very least - that I might have to perform, under duress, an unnatural act. At the very most - my life could be at stake.
Yet, it all started out innocently enough. The rotary phone in our third-floor apartment in the Dorchester section of Boston rang. My mother, who was preparing supper, said, “Walt, would you see who that is?” I picked up the phone. "Hi Walter," the coquettish voice at the other end said, "it's Ann." It's for me, Ma," I called out. "What a pleasant surprise!" I thought to myself.
Well, Ann, then a high school senior, went on to tell me that she was babysitting in West Roxbury and was looking for company. I told her I would be happy to come over. "What time?" I asked. Ann told me between 7:30 and 8:00. Before she hung up, Ann gave me the specific address.
But, I thought, how was I to get there? I didn't own a car. I didn't have access to one. It was too far for me to take a cab. Public transportation might take up to a couple hours.
It was then that I decided to call one of my friends. As it turns out, he said he could help me out and asked what time I wanted him to swing by. I told him 7:30.
Well, at 7:30, my buddy arrived. In a matter of fifteen minutes, we had arrived about a block away from where Ann was babysitting. I thanked my friend for helping me out and then proceeded to walk the rest of the way to the house where Ann was babysitting.
As I approached the house, I was a bit anxious. Had the couple that Ann was babysitting for left? I didn't want to ring the doorbell. I figured that might wake up any young children who might be sleeping. So, after a bit of hesitation, I lightly tapped on the door. Seconds later, Ann opened the door. She looked nice. White blouse. Black dress. She did have a pleasantly plump figure. Yet, she was very well endowed. 44-D cup.
I remember Ann asked me to sit down on the couch next to her. She was talking on the phone with a friend. Frankly, I found it exciting just to sit so close to her. She had this way of energizing me.
Well, she was on the phone for about ten minutes when she finally hung up. We started talking. But that quickly gravitated to kissing and petting. I must admit I found Ann an exciting woman. Very exciting. She was outgoing, lively and fun-loving.
I would during the course of the evening unbutton Ann's white blouse, unhook her bra and see and experience first-hand Ann's "girls".
Over the course of the next hour or so, we carried on our love-fest. If it hadn't been for the fact that there were two young children sleeping upstairs...who knows? There was no carnal knowledge. Even after all these years, I remember it as a steamy, passionate evening.
It was now close to 10 p.m. The couple that Ann was babysitting for said they'd be back by 11 p.m. The last thing I wanted, for both our sakes, was for the couple to walk in on us. I'm sure they would have asked me, "What the hell are you doing here?"
So, a little after 10 p.m. I decided to call it an evening. I kissed Ann good-night and headed for the West Roxbury Parkway (I had, at that moment, thought about calling a cab, but I was a relatively poor guy and I wanted to conserve what little cash I had).
So, I started walking. I walked for about a half-mile and then started thumbing.
I'd say about five minutes later, a car stops just ahead of me. I ran up to it. "Where you headed?" the man inside asks. I say, "Dorchester". "Morton Street," I added. The man then says, "Hop in. I'm headed that way."
Seconds later, we're headed south toward Morton Street. Within a minute, the guy who picked me up starts telling me about his sexual exploits. He's graphically discussing the female anatomy. I immediately sense where this is going. What all this leading up to. I remember, at that moment, tensing up.
As we head toward Blue Hill Ave, not far from where I live,, this guy is pulling out all the stops. This is his best attempt at verbal seduction. I guess today we might put it under the heading of in-person "phone sex". In addition, I can see he's eyeing me like a hungry lion looks at a zebra. I'm frightened. More so then I think I've been in my entire life. I'm sliding over as to close to the passenger door as I can get.
Well, we're now crossing Blue Hill Ave. We're less than a mile from my apartment. My heart is racing. All kinds of thoughts are running through my head. Will he let me off, or will he force himself on me. The possibility of getting killed is another thought that crosses my mind. The guy in the driver's seat continues to spew out a never-ending stream of sexual chatter. My muscles are tense. My mouth is dry. I'm scared, but I know I've got to keep my wits about me.
Well, we're now crossing Norfolk Street, just past the Roger Wolcott Elementary School. I tell the guy that I live at the corner of the next street. But he doesn't appear to be stopping. I'm thinking, "Is he carrying a weapon? A knife? A gun?" We now go over the RR tracks and are heading down the street toward my apartment. It's only a few hundred yards, now. He doesn't appear to be slowing down. I then blurt out, "You know this is kidnapping! You can spend the rest of your life in prison for this!" The guy slows down, somewhat. Not to complete stop as he's now past my apartment building.
At that moment, I decide, "This it it!" I can't determine how fast this guy's car is going - maybe five to ten miles per hour - but I've got to take a chance. I pull up the button, open the passenger door (thank goodness there were no electric door locks) and leap to the sidewalk (I can only imagine what leaping from a train must be like). Thankfully, I wasn't hurt (a scrape or two). I quickly jumped to my feet and ran a 100-yard dash that would have made my old high school track coach proud.
Well, as soon as I reached the steps to my apartment building, I looked back. He wasn't coming. I then ran up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I quickly closed the door behind me.
I remember my mother saying, "Walt, you're out of breath, is anything wrong?" Well, even in this time of peril, and as so to not alarm my mother, I said, "Must be out of shape, Ma."
After that incident, I vowed that I'd never hitchhike again. Yet, frankly, I did break my own rule a year later by hitchhiking from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to Jacksonville.
Yet, since that one occasion in Florida in 1964, I've never hitchhiked, again. I certainly learned my lesson. I figured I came very close to not getting another chance.