The other day, my best friend and I drive down the street to visit a friend who was having a garage sale. While there, we me another one of his friends, and we struct up a conversation.
Over the next hour or so, we talked about guitars, jobs, and the like. This gentleman then invited us to ride over to WalMart to pick up a few items. We agreed, for we could use a break from the sale and it seemed to be a good way to be friendly.
We got into his pick up truck – a behemoth of a vehicle – and he proceeded to drive down the driveway towards the main road. In attempting to make a left turn on to the highway, he drove into oncoming traffic while looking in the opposite direction.
I kept yelling, “Look out! Look out!” and only then did he look ahead and realize he was going down the wrong side of the road. He drove the white behemoth onto the highway divider, and we were safe.
Until we got to the WalMart parking lot.
He cut off a couple of drivers. He blocked an aisle while backing – yes, backing! – into a parking space. Without looking except straight ahead. My best friend and I were shocked that no car or person was hit.
The shopping experience itself was fairly nondescript. He did a little more than pick up beer, but who can complain when we agreed to be his captive audience?
The ride back to the other friend’s place included hitting a curb, driving over a corner of a curb, and cutting off a few other drivers.
Never again, Bubba.
©2022, excerpt from “That’s How We Do It in the South!”