do exist. I met several of them in Idaho Falls after the fireworks.
Here was my situation:
-armed with about 1/8 of a phone. (It randomly broke on Monday morning. Still do not understand why. I could still call some of my speed dials and answer some calls, but couldn't see anything on the screen.)
-I had made it made it to Idaho Falls by finding my friend Sean's number on facebook, calling him from Nicole's phone, having him call his roommate, who then called me, and then gave me a ride to Idaho Falls.
-I was planning on getting back to Utah by way of Ride Boy, who was also going to be at Idaho Falls for the fireworks.
-Nicole didn't go with me to the IF fireworks.
-I did, however, find Olivia and hung out with her ward. We played Uno, walked around looking at the food, and then went back to Sean's car to get my stuff, since Olivia's spot was closer to the Phillips 66 gas station we were going to be meeting up at.
So to summarize, after the fireworks when I split from Olivia and her group, I found myself walking all alone through the business district of downtown IF, carrying my backpack, purse, and a lunchbox, unable to contact anyone on my phone. You can accuse me of being addicted to my phone, and I won't even argue. I kind of am. So I was a little nervous.
Especially when I reached the end of the business district (the road dead-ended at a museum) and I still had seen no sign of the Phillips 66 gas station or the Olive Garden it was supposedly next to. I stood on the street corner, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, trying not to look too lost or vulnerable.
The police officer directing traffic looked at me inquisitively, ready to stop traffic in whichever direction I wanted to go, but I shook my head and shrank away from the curb. I called Nicole, who called Ride Boy, who called me. We figured out that he had told me the wrong way to go, and I started walking back along the same street.
Here are some of the unsavory characters I encountered during my trek:
1. the longboarders with colorful mohawks who were smoking behind the portapotties and called out to me as I passed. Did they think I was somehow similar to them in any way?? Because I do not.
2. the policeman who leered at me as I crossed the street and said, "Be careful, it's dangerous," with a wink. .....Ew. That's not in your job description. I just said "yeah, thanks" because I think he's the kind of officer who would let you off with a warning if he pulled you over and you were cute enough.
3. the (intoxicated?) hicks who honked at me for a solid 30 seconds and then practically fell out of their ridiculously jacked-up pickup truck laughing.
4. the car full of boys who rolled down their windows when their car got close to me and called out, "hey, pretty!" "Dude, she's a lady." "Hey lady, do you need someone to carry your backpack?" "I'll carry your backpack..." "Is that a euphemism?" "Dude, you sound like a creeper right now." I actually think I would have thought they were funny under any other circumstances, but I just shook my head and said, "no thanks," and kept walking.
Here are some of the savory ones I met:
1. The cute family who told me which way I-15 was from the museum.
By the time I got to the Phillips 66 gas station, I thought I was going to cry with relief when I saw Ride Boy's (kind of) familiar face. He smiled at me as I approached his car and said, "Garhett. That was like, a freaking creeper-fest!"
"Oh man," he said mildly, taking my backpack. "I'm sorry about that, getting you lost and everything."
I waved his apology aside. I really couldn't have asked for a better Ride Boy. We left the gas station ten minutes later and arrived in Salt Lake in under 3 hours.