Good afternoon, sir, and yes, I received your inquiry. Thank you for your interest and concern – in today’s high-tech world, it is so rare that we stop and communicate with each other as human beings.
Of course, since you were in my rear view mirror and in a Jeep behind me, I could only visually take in your rather animated hand gestures and your excited facial expressions. I could not make out the verbage of your inquiry, but I could detect your earnest good will, and I was able to gather from various subtle cues that you were most likely wondering how my day was going.
It’s going fine – thank you again for asking. I am kind of bummed about the end of the skiing season, but on the other hand I am sooooooo psyched about the return of flip flop weather and the March Madness – Go Bucks! I guess life is all about tradeoffs, isn’t it?
Anyhoo, the other thing that appeared to be of interest to you was the distance between me and the enormous truck in front of me, which was carrying a dozen small metal rowboats of some kind. Each of the rowboats weighed about eight to twelve hundred pounds, and I think what you were asking was, wouldn’t it be cooler if I got right up behind that truck?
That way, you were probably thinking, we’d both be fifty yards farther down the road, going at the exact same speed, and we’d arrive wherever we were going seconds faster. Seconds! That’s really useful regardless of your destination, being fifty yards and an eighth of a second closer to it. Life is like an episode of 24, and there’s no time to waste!
The only thing was, I wasn’t the guy who had chained the thousand-pound boats to the back of it, so l thought it prudent to leave a considerable distance between myself and the truck, in case there was a horrible accident, and a metal boat – or a pile of them – slid out through my windshield and into my brain.
Yes, I’ll sheepishly admit – I’m weird about that. It often seems like people who hook things up to trucks are above making mistakes, and it often seems like all chains are made of indestructible adamantium links, but actually, you know, shit happens. Yes sir, even in warehouses and truck bays.
A better hung man would have passed the truck – I agree. I don’t drive a Jeep – that’s the problem and you’re right. I probably wouldn’t understand.
I noticed when you whipped over there and passed me that you were trying to tell me something else. I think it was that you don’t just like me, but you “like” like me – and I’m real sorry, pal, I get that a lot but I’m married to the blogosphere, Captain Kirk-style. You seem like a real nice fella, though, and I dig your sweet wraparound shades.
I also like what appears to be either your nickname, or your Jeep’s nickname, on your license plate – PNISHER.
I am assuming it is pronounced “Peenisher.” Since you had a small novelty skull mounted above it, I am also assuming that you are some kind of pirate. Peenisher the Pirate – I have to say that kind of makes me question my straightness and married-to-the-blogosphereness all over again. You are clearly a formidable man.
If I were a girl, for instance, I would totally want to have your baby. I am assuming that if you reproduce, your offspring are as capable as you are of understanding Jeep Things, yes?
Anyway, because you’re so nice, I wanted to remind you about gravity and momentum and how things are normally attached to flatbed semi trucks by human beings – God’s fallible children – and also how mirrors work on giant trucks.
See, you are right on that truck’s bumper now, and again, travelling the same rate of speed as I am, and you are so close, if you were Mel Gibson’s partner on the police force, he could climb out on the roof and then jump onto the truck full of boats and then unhook one of them and ride it into a river as the truck went over it – that son of a bitch is crazy.
But you’re not Mel Gibson’s partner, so instead, without being a buttinsky, I just wanted to remind you that anything falling off that truck right now – even a lunch box, really – would destroy your Peenishermobile, since your Peenishermobile appears to be constructed mostly out of aluminum foil and old tarps.
Also, if you are trying to communicate something to the driver, in the same manner that you were trying to inquire about my day, then you should know that he can no longer see you since you are so far up his butt. If you can’t see his mirrors, he can’t see you.
Sometimes there is a sign, but there’s no place to hang a sign on this truck, since it doesn’t have a back wall between you and its cargo. No, the boats are just sitting there, going seventy miles per hour right in front of you, and you trust the nameless dudes who put them there like they are the Warehouse Workers Of God Himself – I think that’s so hot, man, I’ll be honest with you.
Be careful though, sir, because Jeeps are very intimidating, not just to me, but to the drivers of twenty-ton vehicles. He’s probably sweating bullets in there, going oh crap, oh crap, oh crap – It’s the Peenisher!
You could have given that truck driver a heart attack with your alpha dog hotness. Great power, great responsibility, you know?
Anywho, I wasn’t sure if it went both ways. I mean, I know there is no way for me to understand Jeep Things, but I wasn’t sure if you were able to understand non-Jeep Things, like physics for instance. And how to determine when you are looking and acting like a jackass, in your Peenishermobile. You’re welcome.
Well, it’s been great talking to you, I have to turn now, there’s a Steak-N-Shake. See you on the highway!