For my newer readers here’s a re-stack of a short story from last year. Hope you like it. Please let me know if you would like more shorts on the stack. I do enjoy writing them! ~~ j ~~
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The long, boring drive from San Diego to Houston came suddenly alive during a desolate stretch of west Texas when fear and loathing made their precipitous appearance. Jolting us upright out of our white line trance was a semi-truck in close proximity, paralleling us at 70 mph. Waving and gesturing wildly, the driver was wailing at the max of his lungs, “Pull over! You pulled out in front of me back there! Pull over I said!”
Truth be told, he was right. Our side view mirrors were not nearly wide enough for the big boat we were towing, and our rear vision was often blocked. Instead of taking the time to get the wider ones, we elected to roll the dice and roll on to Texas. That’s what dashing, invincible, hero gambler types do. There is little doubt that we had pulled in front of this poor guy after our fuel stop. With minimal discussion, we decided that his idea of pulling over to visit about it was not something in which we had much of an interest, no matter who was at fault.
So there we rode, perilously close, barreling side by side down the interstate. Mad max trucker eventually ceased his wild arm waving, but continued speeding along beside us, availing the most rabid form of extreme glaring he could muster up. I guess this was somehow supposed to terrorize us into pulling over.
He finally floored it, leaving us to eat his dust as our punishment, we figured. Breathing a sigh of relief, we settled back and rode quietly along in a bit of shock at the spectacle we had just witnessed. The relief would prove to be fleeting.
Moments later we could not believe our eyes. Pissed off trucker dude was standing next to the freeway, pencil and paper in hand, scribbling frantically as we flew by. He had actually zoomed ahead to the next available spot so he could jump out and copy down our license plate number. We glanced at each other with a “Wow.”
Shock morphed to horror as we came to the realization that we were being overtly stalked, highway style, by a bona fide looney toon. The crafty, crazy trucker fell right in behind us, ratcheting the dread up to a whole new level. Our special nutcase had apparently decided to follow us to hell and back. We were fixing to die, like in the movies.
At this point we realized there was probably going to be some kind of throw-down with this psycho. We prayed the hapless mental midget would need to stop for fuel before we did. So on we rode … for miles and miles … of nothing but miles and miles … the closest to an eternity you could compose. It was now obvious we were going to need some kind of plan for this roiling freak show.
Finally a truck stop. Rick sprinted inside to alert the attendant to our festering troubles while I waited outside for the exhilarating arrival of our new nemesis. His rant was eerily consistent, “You pulled out in front of me, you son of a bitch!” His spunky tenacity would have been quite commendable if not for the utterly deranged theater of it all.
I always prefer to defuse a situation with humor if possible. Ever the agent of misplaced levity, I said with a chuckle, “Hey, you know what ol’ Will Rogers used to say, ‘People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean? What are you, some kinda smart ass?!”
His temples and chest are now bulging like some red hot volcano converging on eruption. That’s when the smart ass in me stepped up to the plate,
“Einstein had it right, ‘Two things that are infinite are the universe and human stupidity … and I’m not sure about the universe.’”
Both jugular veins of fuming trucker guy are now purple and popping entirely out of his pencil neck.
“Ok that’s it, wise guy. Time to teach you a lesson!”
Charging wildly forward with his best haymaker, he missed big. This made him lose his balance and stumble. Fools hate it when you make them look even more foolish, so now he was really mad.
“I’m gonna kill you!”
His second attempt encountered my boot, which found its mark, pinged his fruity giblets and rocked his undercarriage to the dirt. Turning to leave the writhing mess, I couldn’t resist pelting him with more timeless wisdom.
“Yo Ludicrous, next time you think you might want to go all bat-crap on somebody, you might want to channel that old Chinese dude …
“To be wronged is nothing … unless you continue to remember it.”
~~ Confucious
Thanks Leigh! As one of my earliest critics, that really means a lot! I love you ~~ Dad :)
Love it! even better than the first :)