A strange pick-up truck pulled into my driveway tonight. It looked old, but clean; rust free. The horn honked and French got out grinning.
"So whadya think?", he said.
"Cool old truck...but why?", I replied.
He explained that he had bought it off Lonesome 50. He had lost his licence because his sight had faded. French promised to drive him around, and had paid him a healthy market value. French went on with his explanation. I'll paraphrase: "This is the important part...it has a bench seat. And nothing makes picking up girls easier than a bench seat. You put a solid mix; these days it is Taylor Swift along with a few old classics. Your lady friend can slide right over. This is the beauty of the bench seat."
He pulled out soon after to pick up his current girl; the one with the Johnny Cash tattoo.
I think I need a new old truck.
6 comments:
I think I need a new old truck, and a couple chicks to prove it to.
Another good thing about the bench seat -- behind it was the perfect place to stash the Molsons
You can stretch out on those things, lie flat for a 2 hour nap, sober up a little before you drive home from the Legion.
Love your characters, you may really be on to something.
My dad brought a very old land rover, It was a sign of his mid-life crisis.
Bench seats are the best! Girls never get tired of snuggling, even when time creeps up on them...:)
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