you can call me crab mon
i've hitchhiked over 600 times during the past couple of years, which, if you think about it, is way more than you have. each day i find myself on the side of the road with a finger pointed towards the destination i needed to be 20 minutes earlier. somewhere around 5-7 times a week. that is slightly more than the average for most americans. slightly. i hitchhike that much AND i own a car. well, share a car.
hitchhiking on st. john is quite a bit different than in the states - partly because we use a finger to point in the direction of where we need to go (instead of a thumb) but mainly because people are so friendly and its safe here, and not so safe in the states. case in point: last week i was picked up by the islands most notorious drug dealer, a man who removed a small handgun from the passenger seat so i could sit, in a car that either had way too much blood or ketchup (i couldn't tell) splattered on the ceiling above the rear seats. this looked like the inside of the car from pulp fiction, only it was a low riding honda civic. i mean really, how many drug dealing murderers in the states would ever stop to pick up a hitchhiker?
my 1st hitchhiking experience: picked up at big maho beach as i was walking by a parked truck that looked like it had been parked there in the same spot for 20 years. a shady looking fellow rolled down the window and popped his head out asking if i needed a ride. i stopped and took a few seconds before saying "um, well, definitely not?" - which he took as a yes. i had my doubts as to the ability of the truck to start and actually move, but sure enough he had it started in 20 minutes and off we were to town. during the ride i found out a little more than expected about this fellow: his name was "crab man," he had no desire to ever take another shower in his life, he smoked weed while occasionally looking at the road, and he gave us 50/50 odds of making it to town without his truck breaking down. now, it took me no more than a second to figure out we had less than 50/50 odds, at best i gave our odds of making it alive 50/50, but the real problem was the proposition he gave me concerning my ride: the deal was that if the truck broke down i had to help him fix it (he assured me he had whatever parts we would need in the back). though when i glanced back all i saw was a truck full of aluminum, in empty can form. not being mechanically inclined i didn't understand how beer cans could fix a truck, but this was his truck and i assumed he knew better than i, so i accepted the proposition. the ride to town was uneventful, but only in terms of the truck not breaking down. i found myself steering most of the way while he rolled joints and went into massive coughing fits. unfortunately our island is filled with roads that are all hills, turns, very narrow, and no flats, which makes for difficult driving under normal conditions - but taking off your seatbelt from the passenger seat so you can reach over and drive with someone else controlling the gas is a thrilling experience to say the least. coming down here i knew that the transition to driving on the left would be difficult, and i can tell you first hand you should never try the above for your first experience with driving on the left. we made it to town having tested all embankments and ditches for drivability, and aside from scarring a few donkeys and mongoose into the middle of the road we also made it in one piece, defying all odds previously mentioned.
fortunately this was my worst experience with hitchhiking, and i was glad to get the worst one under my belt right away. while there have been many times i've regretted accepting a ride, none can compare to my first. standing on the side of the road i've seen "crab man" approach me as i wait for a ride about 3 times now, and each time i've immediately pointed in the opposite direction for a ride so he wouldn't stop.
"son, you can call me crab man or crabby, just don't call me late for dinner man."
on a related note: the picture below is interesting because
1) whoever was taking the photo has zero camera skills
2) what they are doing is illegal, right?
3) there are at least 13 people riding in the back of that truck
there are about 30 of these trucks that pull into down each day from construction sites around the island, all headed straight to the ferry dock so they can go home to st. thomas for the night. sitting at the quiet mon watching them pull into town is a sight to see.
next time on razyboy.com: dealing drugs on this island becomes sophisticated.
hitchhiking on st. john is quite a bit different than in the states - partly because we use a finger to point in the direction of where we need to go (instead of a thumb) but mainly because people are so friendly and its safe here, and not so safe in the states. case in point: last week i was picked up by the islands most notorious drug dealer, a man who removed a small handgun from the passenger seat so i could sit, in a car that either had way too much blood or ketchup (i couldn't tell) splattered on the ceiling above the rear seats. this looked like the inside of the car from pulp fiction, only it was a low riding honda civic. i mean really, how many drug dealing murderers in the states would ever stop to pick up a hitchhiker?
my 1st hitchhiking experience: picked up at big maho beach as i was walking by a parked truck that looked like it had been parked there in the same spot for 20 years. a shady looking fellow rolled down the window and popped his head out asking if i needed a ride. i stopped and took a few seconds before saying "um, well, definitely not?" - which he took as a yes. i had my doubts as to the ability of the truck to start and actually move, but sure enough he had it started in 20 minutes and off we were to town. during the ride i found out a little more than expected about this fellow: his name was "crab man," he had no desire to ever take another shower in his life, he smoked weed while occasionally looking at the road, and he gave us 50/50 odds of making it to town without his truck breaking down. now, it took me no more than a second to figure out we had less than 50/50 odds, at best i gave our odds of making it alive 50/50, but the real problem was the proposition he gave me concerning my ride: the deal was that if the truck broke down i had to help him fix it (he assured me he had whatever parts we would need in the back). though when i glanced back all i saw was a truck full of aluminum, in empty can form. not being mechanically inclined i didn't understand how beer cans could fix a truck, but this was his truck and i assumed he knew better than i, so i accepted the proposition. the ride to town was uneventful, but only in terms of the truck not breaking down. i found myself steering most of the way while he rolled joints and went into massive coughing fits. unfortunately our island is filled with roads that are all hills, turns, very narrow, and no flats, which makes for difficult driving under normal conditions - but taking off your seatbelt from the passenger seat so you can reach over and drive with someone else controlling the gas is a thrilling experience to say the least. coming down here i knew that the transition to driving on the left would be difficult, and i can tell you first hand you should never try the above for your first experience with driving on the left. we made it to town having tested all embankments and ditches for drivability, and aside from scarring a few donkeys and mongoose into the middle of the road we also made it in one piece, defying all odds previously mentioned.
fortunately this was my worst experience with hitchhiking, and i was glad to get the worst one under my belt right away. while there have been many times i've regretted accepting a ride, none can compare to my first. standing on the side of the road i've seen "crab man" approach me as i wait for a ride about 3 times now, and each time i've immediately pointed in the opposite direction for a ride so he wouldn't stop.
"son, you can call me crab man or crabby, just don't call me late for dinner man."
on a related note: the picture below is interesting because
1) whoever was taking the photo has zero camera skills
2) what they are doing is illegal, right?
3) there are at least 13 people riding in the back of that truck
there are about 30 of these trucks that pull into down each day from construction sites around the island, all headed straight to the ferry dock so they can go home to st. thomas for the night. sitting at the quiet mon watching them pull into town is a sight to see.
next time on razyboy.com: dealing drugs on this island becomes sophisticated.
thrown together by raz at 1:43 PM
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