Thursday, July 13, 2006

A Little Trucker Lovin'

I had my first truck-to-truck flirtation tonight....If you can call a wink through the window flirtation...

Let me back up by saying that I love the truck! I was - as you can well imagine - nervous about buying one. To be honest - I love the little Volvo (well - it's not so little, it is a turbo). And a truck seemed so...big. So...hard to maneuver. So...not me. Although I could see the value of having a truck. After all - it makes things like running to the dump or picking up a medicine chest at Lowes relatively simple versus trying to cram a bunch of shit into a sedan (and believe me - I loaded up the Mercedes for dump runs on countless occasions when we first moved in.)

Anyways - Marty and I spent DAYS looking at trucks. We drove up and down I-70 going to all the car dealerships debating things like push bars (I hated them), size (we both agreed we DIDN'T need a full size), and color (I was firmly in favor of black). We also hit a number of out of the way dealerships in places like Conover and our own Lincolnton.

The truck we wound up with was actually found on eBay. When Marty showed me to picture, I immediately grimaced. I hated it. I had my heart set on a charming black little Nissan we'd seen in Hickory. This was white and had a big ZR2 on the side (note: I have a thing about writing on vehicles. I hate it. But apparently all trucks have some sort of writing or design so this is something I have had to make peace with). It was way larger than the Nissan. I gave it a big thumbs down.

Nonetheless, Marty placed a bid, assuring me his bid was so under the true value of the truck that we'd never get it. Famous last words. A few hours later we had won the auction and were searching for someone who could haul the vehicle from PA.

I quickly grew to love the truck. At first, I loved the fact that the truck had a tape deck and I could listen to old mix tapes I still actually had. Particularly some old country mixes my dad had made that I remember listening to as a child. Although why you expose a child to songs like "If That Ain't Country, I'll Kiss Your Ass," "Take This Job and Shove It," and "Colorado Kool Aide" (about a mean drunk in a bar who gets his ear sliced off) is a question for me to sort out with my therapist. But back to the truck.

Then, as some of you read in an earlier post - I intimidated my first drver - a puny little Audi TT who promptly got out of my way.

And then, I got into the rhythym of driving the truck. Sure - it doesn't handle the curves of my back roads as well as the Volvo. And it takes more than 10 seconds to get to 60 mph. And it can be a bit bouncy when you go above 50 mph. But you can also see above (most) cars when you are in traffic (save for 18-Wheelers and obnoxiously large SUVs). When I go to the drive-through ATM, I can easily reach the keypad without having to half hang out the window. And there's always the thrill of watching a smaller car get out of the way because he thinks I may run him over...

So, while I give the Volvo a breather (3000 miles in 2 months is a lot for ANY car), I have been driving the truck.

And tonight, on my way home, a driver in the cab of an 18-Wheeler winked at me. I don't know if it was the Megan Kinney pencil skirt with the suggestive front split or the drapy Helen Wang scoop neck shirt. (What can I say - I busted out a cadre of East Village designers today). Perhaps it was the Jackie O sunglasses and the casual french twist. Or the Marc Jacobs peep toe heels and Louis Vuitton Alma on the front seat next to me (so adorable). I certainly hope it wasn't my slightly off-key rendition of Lee Greenwood's "She Had a Ring On Her Finger (and Time on Her Hands)" which I was belting out at the top of my lungs.

The wink wasn't lascivious. Or scummy. Or skeevy. At least I don't think so. It seemed to me that something about my image was so charming, so endearing, so out of place - that it had to be acknowledged by this truck driver.

So what did I do? Why I smiled and waved - like a polite Southern Belle - and drove on my way.

And if that ain't country, I'll kiss your...