Meridian MS to New Orleans LA (and knowing between good and evil)

On the road early in Mississippi with storm clouds overhead. A few spots of rain started to make me realize how lucky I've been with the weather. Nothing serious materialized though, and after only half an hour or so, my guitar got me a lift again.

A couple of retired Alabama educators picked me up. They were a couple of great boys in their 60s on their way down to Baton Rouge to watch the big game between Alabama and LSU. Very refreshing to have some reasoned conversation with friendly and intelligent southern folk. We chatted about music, politics, travelling and told jokes. In the two hours we cruised along, i learnt that in Alabama, you have to pick between good and evil. Its quite simple, good you support Alabama, evil, you support Auburn. They dropped me off only 40 miles from NOLA in an awkward spot.

A key to hitchhiking is not only getting lifts, but knowing when to get off. I should have stopped a few miles earlier at the 'Welcome to Louisiana' station and would have fairly easily cruised into New Orleans. Instead, I had to cross several lanes of the busy interstate and then walk about two miles down the road where the cars weren't zipping past at 70. You live. You don't learn. And then

A SKETCHY RIDE

I guess it had to happen, after so many good rides with good people, I finally got a strange one. After a bite to eat, I waited less than a minute before a young chap with dark skin and blue eyes pulled up. I'm trying to get to New Orl'ns I said, and he said he was heading that way. For the first time, there was no conversation to strike up. I tried to get things going with a few standards: "it sure is purty around here", "So what part of New Orleans do you live in?" "Why are you so strange?" We cruised along and listened to Obama's first press conference after his victory. After a while, I noticed he seemed to be rubbing himself. I ignored this, I mean what else could you do? Then he started rubbing himself a little bit more rapidly. I continued to ignore him, but at the same time started to assess things like door handles, central locking systems and potential weapons. I started to think about how to escape, but there was no escape to be had while driving in the middle lane of a highway at 65 miles an hour. I would just have to see how it panned out. I looked out at the amazing view. To get into New Orleans, you cross along an incredible causeway across a massive lake. Ahead I could see the tall buildings of the city. It really was very attractive. He was still rubbing himself. Occasionally I tried to give a look that I hoped would say "look, i don't really mind what you do in your own car, but that thing you are doing is kind of seedy." When I asked a question he would stop rubbing for a moment to curtly answer, and then return to his crotch. Hmm. Well, I decided, I guess its better that he's rubbing himself rather than trying to stick his bits in me. So you can't complain too much. When we got into the city, I asked where the French Quarter was. He pointed to the left, as he was turning to the right. Alright, I'll jump out here then, I said. He pulled up, I got out, I grabbed my bag and said thanks mate. He drove off, i walked into town, and that was that. Relieved, very relieved.