The more I read this, the more it convinces me it's not true.
The whole series of events plays like a badly written movie for children.
The first gap is between I hitchhiked and suddenly I met a "guy" who told me he loved me, then he stole all my money and left me alone. To be honest, I stopped believing the whole thing at that point. That whole scenario of randomly meeting a emotionally deranged stranger who promises love then "steals your money" is tediously stale and clearly fictitious when placed within your surreal gunshot narrative.
It was a good job that as soon as you were left with no money this magical and mysterious couple suddenly appeared and decided to house you for three weeks. I can't tell you how many couples try to get me to live with them whenever I leave my house to go to the shops.
Where did you take a bus to?
Isn't it annoying when you randomly help imaginary and generically encumbered old women, they make fun of your clothes while using childish words such as "Icky". Though, It's not that bad because they always throw replacement clothes at you which conveniently belong to a "granddaughter" who doesn't live there and hates all her clothes so much that she abandoned them at her grandmother's house. It's also handy that they fit so well, isn't it weird how it seems like the world is sometimes a littler over catered to every single one of your needs?
However, sometimes old people have a misguided sense of generosity and just start trying to teach you how to dance. Of course this sweet old lady knew how to swing dance, she probably played the music off an old record player while shedding a single tear over the fond memories of the past that the music brought back, while brushing the dust from a photo of her late husband wearing soldiers uniform on her mantle, smile, turn to you and call you "deary".
Again, they always try and do that with me while I am out, I can't tell you how many times I have given up my seat on the bus to an old woman who then won't leave me alone, throws her grandson's clothes at me and starts trying to teach me how to breakdance. Time is also imaginary in this whole ridiculous story and a whole school of dance can be learned in a mere afternoon.
It's a good job this time exempt, dance instructor old lady had realised that at her ripe old age, you don't need money and it merely gets in the way. Let's pretend the tonnes of stuff she had on the bus weren't the massive amount of shopping she had just bought and that she didn't pay to get into the bus. Who cares, give me your money old lady, have a hug, now call me a taxi.
Why do taxi drivers always take people to bars when they say anywhere? If I was a taxi driver and someone said anywhere, I would either take them to a train station or drive around in circles so the meter simply racks up. In fact, if I actually was a professional taxi driver, I would simply refuse to pick up people who didn't even know where they wanted to go. Never-mind though, they always seem to take people to bars in the movies so, it must be true.
Oh dear, approached by over generous men again? The tale of evil men and sweet old ladies is a little over done is it not? It looks like you lost interest in that section of the "story" but thought it might be a good idea to include a unfulfilled and short description of this person who apparently had some sort of disability that made him throw up whenever he tried to speak or something vague.
Middle of nowhere, oh, there's a friend, oh, now I am in her car, oh, now I am in her house, oh, here's some generic soup, oh, now I am in bed, oh, now I am on chu.
OH PA-LEASE.