Truckstop Samaritan

She takes and she takes, she takes and she takes, she understands when she gives it away. – Beth Hart

I stop at every Flying J I see. See, back when I was in that crazy capitalist stripping town, I got a months worth of wifi at the truck stop for twenty bucks. I figured it was worth it, but then I was only there a few days. I can still use it at any Flying J, tho, so to make full use of my purchase, and to feed my internet addiction, I stop and check my email at every Flying J.

Flying J’s are the best truck stops because they have little trucker lounge areas, where you can hang out on a couch and watch teevee, or sit at a desk and plug your computer in. These days I’m being civilized and using Flying J’s electricity instead of holing up in the van to do my internetting.

“Hey, didn’t I see you at a Flying J the last state back?” a guy asks. I totally remember him, we were in this endless shower line together.

Yeah, I say, and I start to get kind of impressed with myself. I mean, here I thought I was going really slow, but if I’m keeping pace with a truck driver I must be doing really good.

No. Actually he’s been to Denver and back, a thousand miles, in the time that I’ve only moved one state over.

“So, are you a driver too?” he asks.

“No, I just dwell vehicularly,” I tell him.


Then they call his number for a shower and I’ve almost completely forgotten him when he shows back up.

“Hey,” he shuffles his feet, “do you need any help?”

It’s not the normal creepy guy drivel of maybe we could help each other out (ie, I’ll give you twenty bucks for a blow job) and I don’t know what to say, so he goes on.

“I mean, you said you live in a car, and I been down like that, man, I know how it is, and you’re driving west… I figure you aren’t working. I could help you out?”

“Oh. I stop and work when I run out of money,” I tell him. “I’ve been living in my van for almost two years. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Oh, okay, well, just checking,” he says.


People assume all the time that I’m broke – and a lot of times I am, just because I usually don’t work until I’m totally out of money. But even when I’m totally out of money, I’ll be up a few hundred in a nights worth of work, so I feel kind of guilty when people give me huge discounts out of the kindness of their heart because I’m a poor girl who lives in a van. When I’ve just worked and have lots of money, I refuse them.

But when I’m broke, I take whatever I can get.


  1. I really enjoy your blog. Some fascinating stuff here. If possible would like to hear more about the nettles and how to recognize them. Have ordered the books by Schofield and Weed. Really want to know how to cook them. I think I have some in my yard but am not sure. Press on with the good work. I try never to buy gas anywhere except Flying J.

  2. I’m totally obsessed with your blog, too. I check it every day for new posts. You fascinate me.

  3. Love visiting your blog each day! My hubby is a trucker and always tries to help those that need it along the road. He says it always comes back and thats true for us. If you see Quality Carrier tanker it might be him. I think he loves Alaska as much as you do. He was stationed there 3 yrs before retiring from Army.

  4. Goodness….I love Beth Hart…that caught my eye, and I had to do a double take. I didn’t think anyone else really listened to her. Back to read the entry now. :mrgreen:

  5. A truck driver told me that the Mormons bought out Flying J and that’s why their truck stops don’t have trucker bars anymore.

  6. Ah. This story really warms the spirit. I’ve been thinking about you, though; in two years, I wonder if you’re able to get as far without working, with the price of gas being what it is.

    It’s always refreshing to know that there are kind souls along the path.

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