So... lots to report.
A couple of weeks ago I took the day off from work to take care of a few things before heading out of town for two weeks. Unfortunately, as I drove about my merry way that rainy Thursday, some cunt decided to rear-end my truck at about 30MPH.
Needless to say, her 1990 Celica or Camry or Whatthefuckeveritwas was fucking totaled. My truck... well... we'll get to that.
I was happily uninjured and was able to drive my truck home, pack, and take off for a luxurious two weeks in lovely Beaumont, Texas and Davenport, Iowa.
Beaumont is a smoking hole in the ground.
Don't go to Beaumont.
Davenport was a pleasant place in a pleasant state full of pleasant people. Meaning, of course, that it was fucking boring. The interesting thing was, though, that when I went to pick up my rental at the airport, they did not have the car I had reserved. The wonderful woman behind the counter gave me a convertible Mustang instead of my 4-door Impala family sedan.
I got in the car, dropped the top, and turned on the radio. It had the ability to scroll through terrestrial stations by categories. I found a classic rock station in commercial and settled.
As I pulled out of the airport and onto the freeway the commercials came to a blessed end and the opening riffs for "Jessica" blared out at me.
After the glorious song took me across the Mississippi, "Highway to Hell" took over.
Next was "You Can't Always Get What You Want."
"Don't Stop Believing"
You get how the next 5 days went, right?
Well, let's jump ahead. I come home and get my rental from the insurance company and I drove directly over to the body shop where I was informed "It looks like it may really be totaled."
I'm pissed about that. I really am - I love my truck and it's really close to being paid off... so, we're talking real Love, here.
I began to look at some vehicles. My first stop was a Ford Dealership where I learned I am able to buy a new Ford vehicle with deep and drastic discounts because of my familial connections. After all the discounts and rebates (and with the down payment coming out of the possible check for the FMV on my truck), I'd end up paying about 19K for a 2009 Mustang GT.
I spent the remainder of the week trying desperately not to think too muich about that car. The sounds it makes. The feel of the seats that (to use a Neal Stephenson line) "wrap around you like nymphomanaical gymnist."
Ok, so I thought about it a lot.
And then Friday afternoon came the call.
"The truck is fixable."
More to come...