Whoever came up with the saying "when it rains it pours" had to have had me in mind. The past couple of weeks have been ridiculous. We have 5 trucks 4 of which are in various stages of collapse and my truck. The jeep has a 6 inch lift kit and huge knobby tires and it always has a problem, like when the back wheel came off when Wes was coming home one night. You can only go about 45 or 50 mph and you HAVE to keep both hands on the wheels at all time because it's all over the road. The toyota doesn't start half the time and overheats the other half. It has a lock gas cap that you have to put the key in just so far then wiggle it while you're lifting up. Wes has no problem with it, I on the other hand, can't unlock it. After I drove in the driveway on fumes a couple of times he realized I wasn't joking when I said I wasn't going to spend 30 minutes at the gas pump getting so pissed off I thought I would bust a blood vein in my head, trying to unlock it. You have to constantly watch the gauges to make sure it's not overheating. There's the 4 wheel drive step side truck he bought from his dad, that doesn't shift gears sometimes so you have to drive it in low. I REFUSE to drive it because I just hate it-period. I don't have a reason other than I hate it. When I look at it I get pissed off. Reason enough.
I have to drive 30 miles to work and I am always running late. I don't want to have to drive 30 or 40 mph on back roads all the way to work or watch the temp gauge or worry about the wheel coming off. Wes has some freakish attachment to his vehicles that is beyond me. He doesn't mind any of that stuff and one or the other is always having to be worked on. If it were up to me I would park them in a little circle, pour gasoline on them and light them on fire
While he's a little freakish about those 3 "jewels" we both have an attachment to the flatbed. A 1978 one ton flatbed with a 350 and only granny gear 4 speed transmission. While he was in prison several of our friends worked on it, trying to make sure I had something to drive. Wes put a new engine in it and it fired right up. Then for reasons only he knows, he started ripping the interior out of it. WTF?? He decided to switch the cabs so it would have a newer model cab. Like all redneck projects, this one got pushed down the driveway than out in to the pasture, where it sat for 5 years. A couple of months ago he decided he probably should go try to start it and get it put back together, we were going to probably need it. He started it right up and pulled it back in to the driveway, where it has set.
This past week we were down to 1 truck, my Z71 that has 300,000 miles on it and leaks oil. Luckily one of our good friends was leaving for a job out of town and decided to ride with someone instead of driving. He left me the keys in case we had problems. 2 days later, the first day of inventory at work when you can not be late, I was driving to work, listening to diesel engine clatter instead of Blake Shelton on my Ipod, thinking about broke down vehicles and no money to fix them. Maybe it was time for a change, a fresh start. I could just throw everything in the front yard and light it all on fire. Of course, I better not burn my truck up, I'd have to have a way to get to my fresh start and what if I broke down after I got there? I wouldn't have enough money yet to fix my truck and I wouldn't know anyone so I wouldn't have a truck I could borrow so I wouldn't be able to go to my new high paying fancy job and would get fired.
Probably best to stay right here, listening to Blake Shelton or the diesel clatter while I drive to my low paying menial job with people I know and like a lot and be thankful that I have a friend good enough to let me drive his truck even though he knows I smoke, text and put my make up on and speed because I'm late for work. If nothing else I can always set Wes' trucks on fire!!!
