Monday, July 24, 2006
Truckin'
As far as weekends go, this one was pretty tame. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great weekend. I got my Aussie friend Sam to drink entirely too much PBR with me and took him to a country bar (he’s determined to fully experience the South, and I just like having a partner in crime,) and I woke up on Kyle and Brett’s futon, but I didn’t do anything truly story-worthy. Or if I did, I don’t remember it. Please keep it to yourselves.
Speaking of, I’ve come up with a new set of standards for what it takes for a weekend to qualify as great. One of them involves waking up on the aforementioned futon.
Sorry for the tangent…now back to our regularly scheduled program. My dad and I switched vehicles today because he needed to take my grandmother to the doctor, and she has a hard time getting up into his truck. Luckily, I drive a small four-door sedan that is perfect for elderly ladies to ride in. That’s because I’m a badass. Nothing evokes the image of a rebel like hearing those four cylinders roar to life. Also, it makes it easier to pick up the ladies at Bingo night.
Anyway, I digress. The image of my dad, whom I have almost never seen in any vehicle that wasn’t a four-wheel drive, in my little Galant is funny. Also, he is a compulsive neat freak, and I know that the unexplainable chaos that is my backseat will bother him the entire time he’s in my car. I will not be surprised if I get home and find out he has organized my car, serviced it, washed it and then torched it for the insurance money because it’s slowly dying anyway.
The upside of this is that I get to drive his truck today. The Galant is my first non-four-wheel drive vehicle, and it drives me crazy. I love my dad’s truck, and wish it were mine. However, being a sales rep that spends most days on the road, a smaller, more fuel efficient car makes sense. Damn adulthood. Just to spite adulthood, I can pretty much say with absolute certainty that this is the first time the CD player in his truck has ever played any music by Butthole Surfers. Take that, Captain Responsible!
Speaking of, I’ve come up with a new set of standards for what it takes for a weekend to qualify as great. One of them involves waking up on the aforementioned futon.
Sorry for the tangent…now back to our regularly scheduled program. My dad and I switched vehicles today because he needed to take my grandmother to the doctor, and she has a hard time getting up into his truck. Luckily, I drive a small four-door sedan that is perfect for elderly ladies to ride in. That’s because I’m a badass. Nothing evokes the image of a rebel like hearing those four cylinders roar to life. Also, it makes it easier to pick up the ladies at Bingo night.
Anyway, I digress. The image of my dad, whom I have almost never seen in any vehicle that wasn’t a four-wheel drive, in my little Galant is funny. Also, he is a compulsive neat freak, and I know that the unexplainable chaos that is my backseat will bother him the entire time he’s in my car. I will not be surprised if I get home and find out he has organized my car, serviced it, washed it and then torched it for the insurance money because it’s slowly dying anyway.
The upside of this is that I get to drive his truck today. The Galant is my first non-four-wheel drive vehicle, and it drives me crazy. I love my dad’s truck, and wish it were mine. However, being a sales rep that spends most days on the road, a smaller, more fuel efficient car makes sense. Damn adulthood. Just to spite adulthood, I can pretty much say with absolute certainty that this is the first time the CD player in his truck has ever played any music by Butthole Surfers. Take that, Captain Responsible!
