Hitchin'

I was stranded on the road near DC
The pollen was high and I was wheezy
Couldn't find a ride
My finger at my side
Then came a guy named Hector who was sleazy

He drove a dirty white Van that was rusting
It's windows looked like they needed a dusting
Yet I hopped on in
His tires started to spin
Then I noticed his eyes started a lusting

I told him I don't dabble in that funky way
Nor am I ever been even the slightest gay
A hand to knee
Came another plea
That I would not partake in such manly play

Maybe my New York accent through him a bit
Because his hand moved up and showed no quit
It went up higher
My situation was dire
And my balls felt they were in a catcher's mitt

Then in a moment I soon won't forget
He plucked down a fifty like a bet
He said it was ok
That I wasn't gay
He was just curious to feel my special pet

So with a little regret I let him linger
Even when he pushed with his index finger
I averted my eyes
Then to my surprise
I saw a guitar and knew he was a singer

Deep within me I thought this very funny
My instrument was being played for money
I started to laugh
As he twiddled my staff
He asked me, "What's the matter honey?"

We soon pulled into a nearby gas depot
He said thanks and released my meatpole
I grabbed my green
Exited the scene
And said my goodbyes to this creepo

There is a moral to my little tale
Get Triple A in case your car might fail
Or you will be
Stranded like me
Being milked like a farmer in a dell