I was hitchhiking on I-95 about 30 miles south of Fredricksburg, Virginia, at four in the morning.

After I had walked at least five miles in the rain, I came upon an abandoned Camaro. The doors were unlocked, so I got in, hoping to find the keys still in it. No such luck. I sat there awhile, wishing I knew how to hot-wire a car. But I didn’t, so I got out and stood beside it as if I had engine trouble. Soon another car stopped, the window lowered, and a woman said, “Can I be of some help?”

“You sure can,” I said. “I need a lift to Fredricksburg so I can find a mechanic.”

“I don’t pick up strangers,” she said. “Can I call a mechanic for you?”

“I’ll bet you’ve got a heater in there. I’m cold and... Read More