On my way home from Kingston on Sunday, I stopped at a service center at the bottom of the 400. I needed to get gas, to pee and to grab something to eat. I also got a coffee (and was reminded that Tim Horton's coffee is kinda sucky) to help keep me awake, as I was pretty tired from the crazy dance party the night before that was Shannon and Andrew's wedding. As I was heading back onto the highway, I passed two guys trying to hitch a ride. They looked young and fun, sitting there with their packs, and they stuck their thumbs north as I drove by. I was tempted to stop and ask where they were headed, to offer them a ride as far as Sudbury, but the smarter part of myself convinced me that it's probably unwise, as a young woman driving alone, to pick up hitchhikers. I don't usually get the urge to pick up hitchhikers, but for some reason I did this time. It would have made my drive more interesting, and it would have been fun to make a couple new friends. And how dangerous is it really to pick up hitchhikers anyway? They didn't appear creepy or sinister. Though I suppose it's probably better to be safe than sorry, even if it's more boring.