If you are reading this, you have almost certainly just watched your home planet get demolished to make way for a hyperspace bypass. First things first: Don't Panic. Second, locate your towel.
A towel, it has often been observed, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can carry. It can be used for warmth, for padding, for modesty, for signalling, for soaking up things that ought to be soaked, and—on occasion—for hitting people who really need to be hit with a towel. The following guide has been assembled from several damp years of field experience.
The Hitchhiker's Towel Checklist
Before stepping onto any passing spacecraft, run through this list:
- Is it actually a towel? A small flannel, a handkerchief, or a cat do not count.
- Is it dry? If not, is it dry enough that it will not drip on important controls?
- Does it have a reassuringly towel-like texture? Anything described as "moisture-wicking" is suspicious.
- Have you told anyone where it is? You should not need to, but it impresses them.
Tip
Always know where your towel is. It is much easier to know where it is if you have not recently lent it to a Vogon.
A Word on Borrowing Towels
Do not. Vogons have a very particular smell, and it will not wash out. Neither will the smell of a Betelgeusean bedsit, a Deep Thought sub-basement, or a whale that has only just stopped falling.
"A towel is just a towel," some people say. These people have not spent three days hiding in a service duct on a Cygnusian freighter.
Conclusion
Keep your towel close. Keep your head closer. The universe is large, largely indifferent, and occasionally sticky. A towel helps with all three.