Hey I forgot to tell everyone that I got my truck back. Some of you may recall that my truck was stolen over a month ago while, from the relative safety of the Pentagon, I was busy protecting my country. It made for a heart-warming surprise when I got off the train that Friday evening only to discover my ride had been snatched.
Secretly, I had hoped that my truck would be disassembled and shipped overseas, thus completely unable to return to me with its giant gas-sucking motor, but alas, no joy. The police found my truck a couple days later abandoned and lonely in Southeast, DC. Everything that was not bolted down had been taken, but graciously, the band of thieves who ran off with ”Big Red” decided to leave my collection of country music CDs. My guess is that they thought they were broken and not worth stealing. This theory is based on the fact that it looked like they tried to repair my CDs with some 100 grit sand paper and a cutting torch. None of my music could be salvaged, all of it had been maliciously destroyed. They did however leave me a pirated “Lil Wayne” album to make up for my loss. I googled that joker when I got home- shady looking fellow, looks like he ate a pie tin. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, google him for yourself when you’re done with this little glimpse into my life. The rest of my truck was in pretty good shape minus a missing steering column, miscellaneous bumps and bruises, and an ashtray full of cheap Swisher Sweet Cigars. So began the process of getting it back into top running shape, enter my insurance company and a really pleasant mechanic at the Dodge dealership.
So, my truck is back in my driveway, it’s running well, but I can’t help but look at it with contempt. You see, the minute I realized that my truck had been stolen, I started daydreaming of a really sweet Altima Coupe. Ahhhh the coupe, good (well better) on gas than my truck, plus I would look like a rock star driving it. Okay, maybe I wouldn’t look like a super cool rockstar. More than likely I would resemble every other almost-middle-aged guy driving a sporty, too small for his build, quasi-race car, but at least I wouldn’t have to endure those “you must be compensating for something” jokes that you get when you drive a giant truck.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like my truck. After all, what man wouldn’t want a vehicle that could actually tow his home out of a ditch if it were to ever veer off the road after hitting a patch of black ice? The problem is my home hasn’t left the foundation since I got here and I can’t think of anything else that’s worth towing. Wait a minute, Connie bought a very big boat this summer, that’s what I’ll tow! I don’t really like being a boat person, but if you own a giant gas guzzling vehicle in this economy you better have some way of justifying it. Come to think about it, if I leave the boat hitched to my truck all winter long I might avoid all those dirty looks from my eco-friendly neighbors who are constantly haranguing me to conserve, conserve, conserve. Connie’s sea creature may be more useful than I thought. Forget what I said about the coupe, I wonder if I can trade in my truck for a Hummer?