October 08, 2003

Why Is Jake Brake Prohibited?

I have blogged about Bob, who broke up his retirement by taking a job at the local grocery store, holding down the fort on the night time shift, manning the cash register and dispensing philosophical pearls to all who will listen. I haven't been in the grocery store during his shift for a long time. Bob, retired, bald, and friendly, now sports a stylish pony tail. Take a trip out of town and see what happens?

I visited Starbucks last evening before my trip towards Columbus for a seminar; and Michelle, she of the pierced eyebrow, which was covered by a small Band-Aidplastic adhesive strip bandage-like thing, asked the other guy who walked in behind me how his day had been. He replied that he had a great day.

"I met Jesus Christ. She was a lot younger than I thought she would be."

Psychiatry joke, I guess, except he was a podiatrist doing his residency rotation in the psych ward of a local hospital.

I got on the road. The plan was to stop at DT's house to crash for the night and watch the Cubs beat the Marlins. Well, that didn't happen. No, I did stay at DT's for the night, but (Of course, the Cubbies lost.) his satellite company didn't supply him with the local ABC and FOX affiliates and the "antenna" wasn't working. I didn't get to see the game.

On the way down to DT's on a winding, two-lane, hilly country road, just before pulling into the town of Mount Vernon, I encountered a car traveling behind a couple of pick-up trucks. The broken yellow line begged me to pass the car, even though a couple of headlights shone in the distance. I passed the car and the first pick-up truck and pulled behind the lead pick-up, which started to slow down. After all, the town limits were approaching.

The truck in front of me fell below the 55 mph speed limit, but I couldn't pass because of the double-yellow. The truck kept slowing. As we pulled into town, the pick-up kept slowing until its speed fell under 25, the posted speed limit. I admit to being impatient. I couldn't get radio reception. It was 9:20 at night, DT's house was still about 15 minutes away, and I wanted to see the game. I figured the dumbass driver was punishing me for passing people so close to town.

Then I noticed two things about the pick-up. A tattered U.S. flag was flapping, attached to the aerial on the front driver's side of the truck. And on the window of the truck bed cap was a Confederate flag with "KEEP IT FLYING" next to it. Yeah, right.

And then I noticed a signpost on the road ahead, the redneck in the truck slowing still. It announced, "NO ENGINE RETARD."

And I guess I had my answer.

Posted by Bill at October 8, 2003 11:06 PM
Comments

Oh dear god! That's so funny!

Posted by: matt at October 9, 2003 11:56 AM

matt NEVER says that to ME! i can be funny.

Posted by: stacey at October 9, 2003 12:49 PM