Screw that damned chimp truck.
Here’s a suck day for you:
Drive for 22 hours straight to move your best friend from Denver to San Antonio, in the worst truck of all time. That’s what I did yesterday. We woke up at 4:30 a.m. and drove straight through until 2:30 the next morning. I don’t know how many Red Bulls I consumed, but it was a hell of a lot, I can tell you. Yeah, man… Red Bull and truck stop burritos – the favorite diet of olympians everywhere.
Theoretically we should have been able to make the trip in about twelve or thirteen hours, but we had the single shittiest rental truck in the history of bad automotive decisions. This truck was proof that Budget rent-a-car is in league with the devil.
Not only was it slow as shit (topped out at 65 mph – 35 mph up the mountain passes in Colorado), but it had a host of other problems. The roof was stamped out of really thin steel so, when I got up to highway speed, wind resistance would force the metal to buckle and snap, and on the inside it sounded like there was a fucking chimp strapped to the roof, banging on it with a rubber mallet – hard. Two hours into the drive, my ears were ringing. Add the fact that the thing looked like it had taken an RPG hit, everything in the cab rattled, the engine was anemic, the air conditioner barely worked, the tires were bald, the panel gauges required a swift punch to get them to work after every start, and the scoliosis-inducing driver seat had me in constant pain, and you can see why I was in a bad mood. To top it all off, at thirteen feet tall, and with huge sail-like mirrors that stuck out on the sides, driving that thing on the highway was like trying to run while dragging a kite through a swimming pool. Oh yeah, and it vibrated and shook to a dangerous degree. Fuck that truck. I want to kick the nearest Budget employee in the nuts, because… Budget sucks! I don’t see how they can rent crap like that to the public.
Ed got off easy because he didn’t have to ride in the thing. He was driving his new satellite uplink truck, and his dad was driving Ed’s Durango. I got the shit-box.
I know, I bitch too much.
Are you thus-far enjoying my photo-free photo blog? I know I don’t post enough. I will, though, because I actually got a couple shots from the trip, including a few during my arrival at Denver Interntional Airport, which is a really creepy place if you look around enough. Actually, it doesn’t even take much searching to start you off on your “Wow, this is really fucked up” journey of discoveries.
I’ll post some shots as soon as I get my film back Monday. For now, I’m going to go and enjoy my birthday cookout and then try and convince my girlfriend to remove my chimp-truck scoliosis via the fine art of massage.