I didn't usually stop for hitchhikers, but it was the middle of a snowstorm and this man was about to freeze. He didn't look like your average hitchhiker, although I can't recall ever actually seeing one. He was a 5'10 clean-shaven white man in a suit. After five minutes in the car with him, I realized I made a mistake.

Immediately, when I started driving, he began twitching in the seat next to me. At first I tried to ignore him, but it was becoming more and more distracting. I finally had to ask him what was bothering him.

"You have your radio on 93.5. I don't like odd numbers. You should put on a station that ends in an even number."

I was confused and a little annoyed, but I complied with his request. What was the point of arguing with him? The ride after the was silent for a while until Hotel California came on the radio. He knew the song by heart and started singing alone with the radio. He was actually pretty good. But after the song was over, he kept singing the lyrics to Hotel California to the rhythm of whatever song was on the radio. He would not stop. I finally had enough and decided to pull into a rest stop to get away from his singing and grab a bite to eat.

He followed me in the rest area and we both went to the bathroom right away. Even though every urinal was open, he chose the one right next to me. Then when I was washing my hands, instead of using another sink, he waited to use the one I was using.

We both ordered Big Macs and sat down. He took the burger out of the bun, put Ketchup on it, dipped it in his coke, and ate it just like that. I wasn't even surprised. Nothing this guy did shocked me at this point. He was just some weirdo who needed a ride to New York.

When we were leaving I pointed out that his shoe was untied. He responded by taking the shoe off and throwing it in the trash.

At this point I just wanted to get to New York and get this guy out of my car as fast as possible. But then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had to shit. That Big Mac was not a good choice. I had decided that back roads were the fastest route to New York, so there were not many places for me to stop. We finally stumbled upon a run-down gas station. It was my only option.

We both went into the station. He wanted to get a postcard or something to send to his uncle. The bathroom was one of the most vile places I had ever seen. There was a single toilet that was tinted a brownish color. It was wet everywhere and the sing had some sort of green liquid. I sat down on the toilet, which was soaking wet, and then looked at the door. There was no lock.

I went back out and called me companion over. I told him to watch the door while I was in there, and make sure nobody comes in. He nodded in agreement and went back in to continue my business. Right as I began to crown, the door opened. It was him.

"Get the fuck out," I yelled.

He looked shocked and closed the door. Once again I was annoyed, but not surprised.

The next 15 minutes were the worst moments of my life. I prayed for death as I gorged myself of that processed meat. As I was getting rid of the remains, the door began to open again. This time I had it.

"Get the fuck out of here you fucking psycho-asshole," I screamed.

It wasn't him.

It was some poor old truck driver who stumbled in the restroom by accident. I was humiliated. He quickly apologized and shut the door. I stayed in the bathroom for an extra 15 minutes just to make sure that when I left, he would no longer be in the gas station.

When I got out, my friend was no where to be found. I looked around the small convenience store, but he had disappeared. I asked the store clear if she knew where the man I walked in with went. She told me the manager kicked him out. Apparently, he snuck up behind her at the counter and whispered in her ear, "I want to make you feel beautiful."

I thought about searching for him, but then decided against it. I got on the road and slammed the gas. Hopefully, leaving him behind forever.