The hotel’s website said “ample truck parking”. They lied!
I pulled into a dead end parking lot and, for want of better options, blocked everything. The world would have to wait while I checked in. Don’t blame me, blame the marketing genius who lured my huge truck to this citified lot.
If you live in what I call “reality America” things are pretty normal. You can almost forget the other half crawled up its own ass and still hasn’t come back out. The hotel was a reminder; the nutters are still nuts. The dread of covid hung in the air like an unvented fart. Cities get off on impending doom. We’re all human. We have roughly equal physical resilience, but cities cling desperately to the idea that citizens (subjects?) are fragile hothouse flowers; one step from the fainting couch and two from the grave. The rest of us figured it out literally years ago. If covid was going to be the black death it would have done the job by now. Rural folks in every state quit cosplaying Armageddon and went back to our lives. The cities shot society in the head and now sit in corners praying for death.
The hotel front desk was “protected” by a frame of thin wood slats. To this, someone had stapled clear plastic film. This Kindergarten arts and crafts project was supposed to protect the brave frontlines worker. They might as well have glued macaroni to construction paper. Yet a virus prowls the other side of 4 mm vinyl like a lion behind bars; or so they pretend.
Behind the irrelevant film was a college student. I know this because no living being can be as pretentious and annoying as a college student. I’ll go out on a limb and say he was a graduate student and he majored in “you want fries with that”. He oozed “I’m better than you” with a side of “you’re different than me so in the name of diversity I reflexinvely hate you”. Universities train the ignorant to be snobbish while holding monkey’s job.
He passed me my keycard as if I were a dog that might bite. He didn’t actually hand it to me though, he slid it through a slit cut in the bottom of the film. I suppose this kept the double vaxxed effete twit within safe from the air breathing deplorable on the other side.
“Where’s the truck parking?” I asked.
He waved at the inadequate parking area. Syllables are too much like interacting with your equals. I nodded.
Back out in the parking lot I found an entirely different world. It was nearly sunset and a work crew had wheeled out a BBQ. They were grilling brats and standing around drinking beer. Several were playing a makeshift game of horseshoes (with non metallic throwing shoes). A few were lounging in lawnchairs. A radio played shitty three chord country pop. One guy, off to the side, was having an intense discussion with his cell phone.
I was so happy to see them. People who work in the real world were enjoying a well earned break. I’m a loner. I haven’t been on a work crew in years. I still remember the comradery and sometimes I miss it.
I hated to interrupt but I needed them to move a few of their pickups “Sorry fellas, the manbun in the saran-wrap told me to park here.”
They weren’t even remotely offended. Two pickups were moved in a flash. They had seen me pull in and knew it was inevitable. I laboriously backed my truck around a curve to get a better line. Then I rolled it forward at an angle to “parallel park” my truck and heavy trailer. In order to fit, I had to inch very close to a battered SUV. Seeing my problem, one of the men held up a hand. He trotted over to the man who was practically melded with his phone.
I could see the whole story playing out. The cell phone man had the exact look of a worker who’s out on the road earning money and has just been dumped by someone back home. It’s a tale as old as time. The fellow helping me gesticulated to the cell phone man who responded with an angry finger. Someone else just grabbed a jacket from a nearby fence and rifled through it for keys. Soon the cell phone guy’s vehicle was moved without the cell phone guy’s permission, cooperation, or awareness. Poor fella’ looked pretty wrung out.
I did a good job “parallel parking” 40’ of machine with all of 14 wheels on 4 axles. Good thing too because I’d have been fatally embarrassed to fuck up in front of the whole crew!
I shut down and climbed out. “Thanks guys.”
They’d gathered round the trailer examining what I was hauling.
“Is that an Edsel?” One of the younger guys asked.
“No, it’s a Studebaker.” I responded.
(Note: it wasn’t an Edsel or a Studebaker. Please accept these placeholders in lieu of OPSEC violating facts.)
“It sure looks like an Edsel.” He insisted.
SMACK! A hand shot out from the guy to his left and administered a friendly but firm dope slap. “If the man had an Edsel he’d fucking know it was an Edsel wouldn’t he?” His elder explained. Quite reasonable logic I’d say.
“Yeah, that’s right. Sorry.” The younger guy stammered.
I was pleased to see such fine mentoring. Common sense and a quick correction. Someday the youngster would be a well rounded and competent man. Well done!
We stood around shooting the shit for a while and I felt like one of the group. It feels nice to fit in! As we talked about the pros and cons of Edsels and Studebakers we got an earful of the cell phone man’s drama. Everyone agreed the sooner he was done with “that slut” the better. There was a consensus that him getting dumped was, whether he knew it or not, a blessing in disguise. The phrases “dodging a bullet” and “crazy bitch” were bandied about. I wonder if the younger guy was picking up on this. It’s surely one of life’s most important lessons.
I could have scammed a bratwurst from their BBQ but I wanted to sit in air conditioning. I wished them all well and hiked across the road to the only restaurant nearby.
It turned out the restaurant was quite interesting.
(To be continued.)
+1
AC, this one evening of yours sounds more pleasant than my entire last month. Good for you!
It was a good time.