Notes From The Van & Taxi

I had to hitchhike today. My friends were working and it was my day off. NO bus transportation here, and the guy I was getting a ride from forgot. So, I got a ride from a really nice guy who seemed very normal, and worked for some neighbor. I saw him across the street and it seemed okay. Stranger-acquaintance. I had to go to the bank to cash a check and the neighbor said he'd take me. Had a time, and a laugh, thinking his lunch bag was the garbage, and he told me to put my sticky ketchup foils in my own fast food sack. I was laughing. I hadn't meant to insult the appearance of his lunch. "Is this the garbage?" So then he tells, going home, that he was charged with manslaughter but got off when they sent him to a "nuthouse" as he called it. He said the nuthouse doctors agreed there was nothing wrong with him and they let him go, but I guess that was the end of it. He didn't elaborate. After that, I took a taxi, at aggregious expense, and met someone I want to hire for my personal assistant/security when I am rich. We exchanged numbers. Very good advice, that girl gave. And, she told me about some of the scarier people she'd given a taxi ride to, and told me her secret weapon was a ball-point pen, which she would click and unclick, partially from nerves, and partially to be prepared. She said it was either her cell phone (to quickly text: "HELP") or the pen, and she usually used the pen, keeping her eye on the rearview mirror.

(I had to alter the original post here because it was terrible. This was the only part worth salvaging, and the rest was just confusing and drab)