The driver wouldn’t talk to us on the CB — George says he must be sick and tired of being teased about his “giant spud.” There are certainly worse things a driver could endure hauling, like the enormous donkey we saw on a flatbed in Iowa. Talk about a big ass! I’m pretty certain the CB in that cab was on mute, too.
We’ve seen some weird things on flatbeds. Hell, we’ve seen some weird things strapped to four-wheelers, like the giant hammerhead shark we saw on the roof of a Honda Accord. It was bigger than the car, and the guy driving had his hand out the window holding on to the thing, like he could keep a gust of wind from blowing his big shark off the roof and into the road to wreck an innocent family. I can see the headlines: “Local Family Gravely Injured by Hammerhead Shark on I-75.”
I never did figure out if it was a real shark or made of papier-mache, but it gave me something to think about for the day.
“We never get to haul anything good. Always dumb stuff like beer and diapers. Why don’t you get a flatbed?”
“No way. I did flatbed, remember? You complained incessantly about how dirty my clothes were. You gonna get out there and help me strap everything down and pull the tarp?”
“I’m too short.”
“No you’re not.”
“I have diverticulitis.”
“You can fart while pulling a tarp, it won’t hurt anything.”
“My shoulders are destroyed from hauling little old people in and out of bed. And by the way, I don’t fart. It’s the cat.”
“My knees are destroyed, it’ll work out fine — I’ll do the top and you can do the bottom. And I suggest you take that cat to the vet.”
“You’re being difficult, and now the cat is mad and will punish you.”
“Difficult is flatbed. It’s a lot of work. Those guys don’t get paid nearly what they should to do all the extra stuff they have to do. I hated it.”
“You’re no fun.”
“And you’re full of cat farts.”
