Somethin Bout a Truck…

It seems that there is always a truck speeding things up or slowing things down. I have been 20 minutes early to work every day for the last 2 weeks, and a truck made me late this morning.  Don't get me wrong, I don't hate trucks. My daddy has always had a truck, and I'll be honest, to me, you aren't a man's man if you have never had a truck. But there becomes a problem when the truck is bigger than my first apartment.

I own a moderately sized 4 door car. I love my car. But when I go to the Pilot in Haughton, I purposely park away from everyone just because there's too much going on there in the truck department. So, I come out with  my 24 oz coffee and chocolate covered pretzels, and almost drop it all to see the truck equivalent of a mullet  (You know, business in the front with 2 tires, party in the back with 4), on either side of me! I can't see to get out of there, man! I don't want to have to sit here for you to pick out a hot dog, just to avoid a disaster. And don't get me started about trying to make a right turn while you are sitting at a red light. God help me if there happens to be a shrubbery next to you too!

Bah... seriously? I mean, is there REALLY a farm here? Well, you know what... there probably are. I mean, I do drive by several fields of hay every day, but I guess I just forget I'm not in the city anymore. But even when I visit my friend's apartment (my old apartment complex) and there are 4 trucks with tires whose circumference is bigger than my butt! That's not okay!... Well, it is ok, because who wants a butt bigger than a tire, but I'm just saying...there's a a problem.

But, I gotta say, I'm gonna be making friends with some of those people with trucks in a few months when I move to Castor. Cause well.. there's somethin bout a truck. Dangit.