Stop the presses. Anne Ferro spent the night in a truck. And she wasn’t held against her will, which would have made a much better story, but we can’t have everything.
I applaud Ol’ Two Day Annie for attempting to see what our life is really like. Two days is more like a brief preview — I’d probably give her a lot more credit for two weeks — but we can’t have everything. I also applaud the trucker who let her ride with him — you’re a brave fellow. When I asked George if he’d let Anne do a ridealong with him, he flat out said, “Hell no.”
Having the boss of your whole dang world in the truck must be a little like being Ronald, Moses’ long suffering and scarcely mentioned personal assistant. Poor Ronald spent a lifetime dragging after Moses, through Egypt, up the mountain and into the desert. He’s the behind-the-scenes guy who had to do all the vermin coordination and get the smiting and burn permits. It’s widely rumored that Ronald never made it home in time for dinner, and his relationship with his wife suffered greatly because of his job. (No one here can relate to that, I’m sure.)
“Honey, I’m going to be late again. Moses just ordered a giant smite, the permits are a nightmare.”
(This is Ronald, talking to his wife on the shell phone, which was a precursor to the cellphone.)
“You tell Moses he can put this on hold for a day. You haven’t been home for dinner in weeks!”
“Uh, have you seen what that guy can do with his walking stick? I’m not feeling being bitten by the poisonous asp today, it’s been a long week.”
“Has he given you a raise yet? Little Ishmael really wants those Pharoah Pumas. They’re on sale, but still cost 26 scarabs and a goat head! Inflation is crazy when there’s a plague on.”
“Well, we need to discuss the Pharoah Pumas. That’s one of the reasons I’m going to be late, Moses has ordered a smite on anyone wearing Pharoah Pumas, their feet will melt off and ants will invade their brain, which requires two different smiting permits for one punishment. So much paperwork. And seriously, ants are so difficult to work with, they don’t even like brains. This one is really going to be hard to pull off.”
“Oh my. He’s really getting creative, isn’t he? How long until we’re transferred to the desert?”
“Hmmm. Let’s see. The river has turned to blood and the locusts have plagued already. He’s going to slip this Pharoah Puma thing in right before unleashing the Angel of Death. You did remember to get the goat blood for the door, right?”
“Done and done.”
“Minerva, you’re a good wife. I’ll be home as soon as I get the ants to cooperate.”
"Until a formal regulation is established with clear guidelines and borders ...