More From Mr. OB
Do you remember Mr. OB? You should. Catch up here and here. I often wonder about the interpretation of our friendship from afar. A twenty-four year old girl enjoying drinks and conversation at a restaurant bar with a sixty something year old man. Maybe it is an odd friendship pairing to outside eyes, but I do firmly believe in the notion of age only being a number. I know some of my friends who are still in their twenties that are older than Mr. OB. Not only does Mr. OB provide me with continuous entertainment with his quirks and no-fucks-given attitude, but he also has some pretty incredible stories to share.
Why, just last week I had dinner with Mr. OB after an extended period of not having dinner with Mr. OB for no particular reason. He told me the hilarious story about the time that he hitch hiked from Mississippi to Illinois to stay with a friend when he was just 19 years old. He was kicked out of his college for being in a girl’s dorm after hours and decided to get out-of-town to avoid the heat from his parents. Shocker.
We began to discuss the differences between the times. Hitch hiking was common place and not surrounded by the qualms of abduction back then. At least not as much as now. He told me about the people who picked him up along the way.
Me: “So what were the people like? How many different people picked you up?”
Mr OB: “I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember this one hippy chick who picked me up”
Me: “Was she cute?”
Mr. OB: “She sure thought I was. She didn’t take me very far.”
Me: “Well how do you know she thought you were cute? Did she tell you?”
Mr OB: “I just knew, okay. I remember stopping off for a hamburger at one point.”
Me: “Is hamburger code for what it sounds like?”
Mr OB: “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
He went on to tell me about a salesman who picked him up out of pity. Mr. OB hadn’t slept for almost 48 hours when the man picked him up, so he immediately crashed for most of that ride. He told me about being dropped off in the worst possible part of Chicago. Just before he was approached by a taunting gang outside of a night club, a truck driving savior ran a red light, opened the door to him and said, “Get in. Let’s get out of here.” Would anyone do something like this today? Not likely.
He continued to recount his journey. Eventually, conversation turned to beer goggles, or in his case, weed brownie goggles, and we became lost in laughter at failed romantic escapades.
Here’s to Mr. OB. I admire him for his tenacity for life, for not giving a fuck, for always being bluntly honest, and for always saving me a seat at the bar.
IN OTHER NEWS, Le Clown comes to Cajunland on Wednesday. You won’t want to miss it. See you then Flysters.
- Hitch-hiking in pictures [photo challenge] (hitchhikershandbook.com)
- The Anxiety of Hitch-hiking (flashynonfiction.wordpress.com)
- Family Member, Traveling (tibetanaltar.blogspot.com)
Posted on April 15, 2013, in Humor, Travel and tagged 25tofly, Becca Cord, beer goggles, Chicago, dialogue, friendship, Funny, funny bar conversations, funny blog on wordpress, hippies and hitch hiking, Hitchhiking, humor, Illinois, life, Mississippi, mr. OB, older friends, Relationships, travel alone, traveling. Bookmark the permalink. 23 Comments.