Of Madness and Hitchers

Today I was driving into town to pick up the thyroid meds for the cat and go for a run.  As I was driving, I passed this guy on his way to town.  Walking.  Now this is no short walk.  I don't know where he goes, but he must have a good 5 miles ahead of him.  I always see him, with his backpack, headed into town.  And I always think, poor guy, it's a long walk. 

And this morning, as I often do, I thought -- I should give him a ride.  And of course immediately common sense speaks up and says, "right, if you want to get yourself stabbed" so the kind inner child says, "well, I could just get a concealed weapon PERMIT (because I would never ever ever own a gun myself) and carry it around with me and when I pick up hitch hikers I'll show it to them and tell them I have a gun so not to try anything".  Okay, soooooo logical.  So common sense says, "Uh huh, because you know all of two people with a concealed weapon permit you could borrow and somehow, I don't think the killer hitch hikers are going to buy the idea that your name is Dickie or Lloyd".  And then I laugh at myself for having such crazy thoughts anyhow.  I think it may be because just before I left the house I finished this book my sister-in-law loaned me called How to Be Good, by Nick Hornby (thanks, Meredith).  I have a tendency to really get drawn into books and apparently this one really sucked me in (it was a fantastic read) and may quite possibly have left a lasting impression.  So, you know, now I'm totally planning to give away my life savings (all $5 of it) and start taking in homeless teens while convincing my neighbors to do the same.  Anyone else have a tendency to get lost in a good book now and then?
Regardless, I don't think I'll be picking up any hitch hikers, MOM.  I guess I'll settle for donating my hair for the fourth time - next month is going to be the big chop, chop.  The only risk there is a really bad cut.