Thumbing for Fried Chicken and the Events that Unfold

On the 2nd day of rain, in the 2nd stretch of relentless rainclouds, I was hitching a ride to Katikati. Our residence is out in the country about a 7 minute drive from this town, and the rain had slacked off. If it has rained at all during the day, then our entire workday of fruitpicking is cancelled. Not the best situation as far as money goes, but allows alot of free time, especially when you've been thrown the rainclouds like we have. The rain had stopped, though everything was still swamped in the sloppy wet. I stood on the side of the road, my thumb cutting images in the late morning sky.

Actually this day, I was only contemplating hitching a ride into the small town of Katikati, (there really isn't much to do there). I was hiking through some orchard, exploring the area, when I decided that yeah, I could hitch a ride or maybe not. "I'll stand on the side of the road for no longer than 10 minutes. If someone comes that's great. If no one comes, than i'll walk back to the house and eat a sandwich. But I really feel like fried chicken and there's some in town."

About the time that I was about to give up and go back to the house, this pickup truck rolls up. An older man with rubber boots sits in the driver's seat. He has this young lady next to him. She's a french exchange student. And he's a Kiwi farmer. We talk about work and then he tells me about how there is a vast shortage of dairy farmers in the South Island. That this winter or spring I could easily get a job that pays salary to milk cows in the early morning mountain air. He gives me his name and number. He has a bunch of dairy farmer friends down there that he could point me towards. I thank him for the tip and for the ride. I hit the small town of Katikati.

After gulping down some fried chicken and chips (fries)...I head into the town information city. And it was there that this bewildered lady walks in. Her anxious thoughts seeming to bounce from her expressions as she fumbled her way towards the front desk. I had this hunch that this would be interesting, so I paused my retreat and began that artful gift of mine....the art of eavesdropping. I didn't have to listen too attentively for she was loud and exclaiming her problems. Something about a car dying on her and then borrowing her son's car and how she had just dropped the key and lost it somewhere on the streets of this little town. And then she began to sob wildly as she placed her head on the desk. The lady in the front desk strove to comfort her. And I knew that I must in some way aid this lady in distress. So I said that I would help look for this key and for not to give to despair so easily.

Her mood lifted and we retraced her steps from her car to the flower stand. But there was no use. The key was gone. But interestingly enough, when we got to the flower stand where she had last seen the keys her attention was stolen by the autumn flowers sitting prettily in the racks. She said she had friends nearby that could give her a lift. Her spirits were revived and I left.

I stood on the corner of this street with my thumb out again to catch a ride back to the farm. I'm starting to feel like some character from a Kerouac novel. Across the street was this 2nd story backpacker's hostel. It wasn't long until this figure stuck his head out the window and yelled over at me to come up and join him for a Bourbon. Well, given the situation and the fact that I was in no rush...why not?
So I rushed over to the Wanderlust Backpacker's and met this guy midway up the stairs. He was all dressed in black and had an upside down crucifix around his neck and pentagram as well. In his eyes he had this contacts that dilated his pupils to make him look like a vampire. I can't remember the fellows name but he was a Kiwi from not far away. And pretty young. Still into shocking people into thinking that he understood darkness. He gave me a bourbon and coke. His first question to me was, "you like heavy metal?" I told him I liked Led Zeppelin. A good way around the question. He placed some Led Zeppelin on his stereo and began telling me this long, long story about the disgusting habits of one of his roommates. Eventually these two very young girls show up. They were local and they make negative comments about his dilated, crocodile pupils. After some time I get exceedingly bored with their conversation and tell them that I have to catch a ride back to the house. They understand and go out onto the street again.

After about 10 minutes another car stops. And from the savvy, delicate look of the male driver, I guessed he was gay. Though, I could be wrong. "This should be interesting", I thought as I stepped in his car and told him the street to let me out on. This guy was Auckland heading back there. And it turned out he was getting back from some sort of retreat on his way back to Auckland. I asked him what type of conference it was. He said some sort of bizarre name and seemed to stubble around for words. And then told me that it was a conference about hearing the voice of God.
I was suprised and got excited. And when began to talk in the short drive about faith. Before I got out of the car I asked him to pray for me. He nodded and said why not now? So he prayed over me. I left the car heading back to my current place of livelihood feeling really good about the turn of events for the day.