As I was walking down a street inPortsmouth I encountered Mark Upton (a Portsmouth acquaintance) getting out of a car. We began walking along together and he told me he had just hitchhiked back to Portsmouth from Texas. He seemed tall and lanky and had long frizzy hair and a beard. He was wearing a button-down shirt which had no collar.
A car passed by being driven by someone I recognized. The driver was a black-haired fellow (in his early 20s) whom I used to know but I couldn't remember exactly from where. The car was an antique and the body resembled a round tub. It was painted blue and the engine, which was visible, was painted black. The fellow pulled up to a stop sign, saw me and pulled over to the left side of the road close to the stop sign.
Mark and I walked over to the passenger side of the front of the car and spoke with the fellow. We hadn't seen each other for about ten years. He began telling me he had been in Portsmouth all that time. He had had several other cars and had only recently built the one he was driving which he liked the best of any he had had.
Mark told the fellow he had just walked back to Portsmouth from Texas. I said, "Well you hitchhiked part of the way didn't you Mark?"
Mark said he had hitchhiked part of the way.
The fellow in the car said he also had air transport. I thought he meant he had an airplane. He began telling me about it. It was a two-seater. After listening to him, I told him I didn't like flying in planes because I was too afraid of them. He continued extolling the virtues of airplanes and I continued maintaining that they were too dangerous.
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