Tuesday, December 29, 2009


Each time we take that step to rent a vehicle for a trip I dread having to face the haughty little brats that rule the counters. It's not easy for me to hold my tongue and even more difficult at 7 or 8 in the morning when I've just rolled out of bed with very little sleep.

In my experience so far, the car rental companies will find ways to make you (the consumer) to feel like you've made a mistake when essentially they are not prepared for you when you arrive.

This was the case, once again, on Monday morning when we came to get the truck we'd rented for a trip to our other home (the south house) to pick up some items that I wanted in this house (the north house).

We were about 30 minutes late from the expected time of arrival; therefore Miss-know-it-all turned her snotty nose up and made it sound as if our tardiness was going to cost us the rental of ANY vehicle for the day.
What it really meant was, the truck we rented was actually down for maintenance and they didn't want to upgrade us for free (which is basically their requirement) and ...sort of what we were hoping for anyhow. If you get to know these companies from enough usage you'll figure out that the upgrades happen with great frequency.

It took a few minutes and a lot of attitude and eyeball rolling but we eventually headed out to another office to pick up our upgrade, which was a wonderful new full-size truck that made me tingle in places that shouldn't be stimulated so easily...

Let me explain myself a little bit for those that don't know me personally, actually those that do know me these days don't really know me THAT well nor my youthful history.
I ama speed demon, I have a great love of living on the edge. I want to experience everything as hard and wickedly as possible. Quite frankly I'm convinced that I will have a short life especially in light of my genetic makeup and my case history of medical problems.

Some people say, "oh, be positive and think of all of the ways you can prolong your life through medications and assistance"

Screw that bullshit, I don't want to be a dependent any more than I already am. (today for instance as I'm writing a few days after totally fucking up my back lifting 8 sheets of drywall and my moving my treadmill)

If and when I am finally so decrepit I will ask someone close to me to only assist me in committing suicide if I haven't devised a plan on doing it myself. Believe this, I will have all of my shit in order and prepare my loved ones.

Will they forgive or understand, not likely but they have to accept because it's my decision.

We are allowed to humanely euthanize pets when they are suffering, well damn it - let's do it to our family members also.
Have any of you looked into the eyes of someone that is terminally ill and they are kept on tubes and pills? Eventually the light blinks out of their eyes, the soul disappears and they are pleading for mercy yet most are afraid to ask for this.

All that said and done, this goes back to my youth and my love of speed. There once was a time when I was involved with automobiles, high-performance automobiles!
On weekends I took trips to the local speedway. (okay, so it was barely better than a dirt track) I would tag along with the guys and look forward to my turn at the wheel down the quarter-mile.
No circle track for this girl.
I like it long, hard and straight.
The rumble of a well tuned 350cid (small block Chevy) or even a DOHC 4.6-L V8 Mustang Cobra thrills me but what I drove was an '87 Buick Grand National (turbo charged) and that bitch could haul some ass!

My daily driver was a beauty that was souped up a little bit, which is why this new full-sized truck was giving me chills along my spin and goose-flesh on my arms. That old girl was curvaceous and throaty, actually a bit like me. A shade between burgundy and maroon and the windows tinted just a couple of levels below illegal but just dark enough to keep the driver mysterious.
There were so many miles I sat in that seat, so many hours and so many songs I compared my life to. Contemplating change until the day I finally made the changes that led me to where I am today.

However, like all other things - they must evolve. Between my health, finances and the Bush administration it just wasn't feasible to keep a gas guzzling full size truck any more. With sorrow I said goodbye to her, patting my pocket as I waved to the boy who bought it for more than I paid many years prior (see ya later Sucker) and said to myself, "there will be a day again when you WILL have a truck again."

I AM the country song where you lose your job, your sweetheart, your dog and your pickup truck but the song is so beautiful that its hard to feel that bad because you want to sway to the music and feel the melody.

Renting that truck for 24 hours brought back the music for me, it wasn't a country song but it thumped a beat that pumped my blood that flushed my cheeks and had me smiling until I laid my head upon my pillow when it was through.