I just saw a guy riding down the highway changing his socks. He wasn’t swerving all over the road — he was actually being very cool about it, like he didn’t want other people in traffic to know he was changing his socks. He was keeping the appearance of “not changing his socks while driving,” while driving. Had I been in a four-wheeler, I would have fallen for the ruse and I’d have never know about the sock changing, but sitting 12 feet higher in the air has its distinct advantages.
If you like to watch people change their socks.
Truckers are the “Big Brother” of the road. They know what you’re doing, people. They see you and they tell each other and everybody knows it when you’re riding down the highway with your finger so far up your nose your brain is in grave danger of being touched by boogery fingers. Nice. Way to take care of your brain.
Guess what? There are people 50 miles up the road waiting to see your wanton nose picking and flagrant disregard for personal hygiene. Bet your Momma would be proud.
Truckers also have the uncanny ability to tell you exactly where you are, when they’re nowhere near you and can’t possibly see you.
George has a friend named Bob (we call him Baggy Eyed Bob because he runs like a maniac). They pass the time a lot on the phone, mostly talking about nothing. Every once in a while, George will mention where we’re heading and Bob will immediately be able to give us a visual point of reference. Like a human GPS, only more reliable.
“Bob says after we go around this bend to look to the right. There’s a nature preserve, and there are elk.”
By the time he gets the word elk out of his mouth, I’m staring at a herd of elk off to the right, at the nature reserve. And Bob is 2,000 miles away from us. It’s completely creepy.
I had my own Big Brother trucker experience last summer, during one of my home time breaks. George was going to be at the terminal, which is only 50 miles from our house, and I was going up to surprise him by meeting him there. Only he wasn’t surprised at all.
“I thought you’d be surprised!”
“I knew you were coming.”
“Did the kids tell you?”
“How’d you know?”
“Uh, let’s see. You’re an attractive woman in a convertible Mercedes with the top down. I knew you were coming about three minutes after you got on the highway. I was only 15 miles ahead of you, by the time you passed the Springfield exit, every trucker on 70 with a CB knew you were coming. There’s probably guys waiting in Toledo for you by now.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about all that. I mean, I think I should be flattered, but I feel kind of scared.”
“Just be aware, babe. We see everything. We don’t always comment on it, but we see it.”
“OK, Captain Creepy. Now I’m all freaked out and will never ride with the top down again.”
“Don’t be freaked out, it’s OK to ride with the top down. Although it does make you more accessible for an alien abduction…..”