Friday, February 01, 2008

The heartbeat of America

From January 7th to the 24th, I was driving this:


Once I got the spacing down, it was a lot of fun. That baby does well on the open road and it was fun to drive in the snow. I would search out snow drifts so that I could plow through them. Remember that huge snowstorm on Human Rights Day? I drove up Parley's in the sumb___h with nary a problem.

Yes, for two weeks, this machine defined me. If you would have looked me up in the dictionary during that 17-day period, you'd find a different explanation than at any other time in my life. Anybody who happened to be around me probably noticed some not-so-subtle differences in my attitude. Like I had bigger muscles or something. People treat you differently when you drive something like that. Lisa said the truck suited me (her words, not mine) and did pretty much whatever I asked her to the entire time. Lucky for her, a man who drives one of those is pretty self-sufficient and doesn't ask much of his woman or anyone else.

People also remember you when you roll in a vehicle like that. One day, I had to park in a pay parking lot at school twice, and the fellow who took my money said, "Hey, weren't you just here?" So, I says to the guy, "Yeah. I didn't get here early enough to park somewhere further away." Which probably didn't surprise him, because someone in a Chevrolet like that comes and goes when he pleases.

Yup, besides the difficulty in parking that em-effer, that was a good 17 days....
"Then why aren't you driving it anymore?" you ask.
"Because it weren't mine."
"Then why were you driving it?" you inquire.
"Good question. Here's why:"
....Tuesday night, 11 December 07, I left Lisa's house to go to Becky's birthday party. Lisa was following me. "My Debutant" by Chixdiggit had just played on my Pod and "The Universal" by blur was currently playing. I pulled up to a stoplight, minding my own business. The car next to me and I both thought that our light was about to turn green, and in the anticipation, we inched forward. Instead, the turn-arrow went green, so we both stop. Next thing I know, I am getting plowed from behind by youknowwho. My back window was now lying in shattered pieces on me and on the seats of my car. My spare tire was now lying on the ground. My world would never be the same.

Here's the damage:


And the perpetrator's damage:

"We can't stop this thing from what it's going to be."

3 comments:

lisa said...

I'd like to take this opportunity to officially say:

I'm sorry for crashing into your truck.

Cindy said...

Eww...it stinks getting hit in the rear.

Missi said...

washington plates... oh now this makes sense