thoughts of my trucker friend
One day I had trouble with my car and felt the mechanic had been dishonest, but I wasn’t sure. I called Gail, and for once she was home. I asked her if being a woman ever caused problems with repairs on her eighteen wheeler.
“Certainly. When I bought my own truck it shimmed on inclines. After every haul, I had nuts, bolts, and anything else that could come loose, flying off. The service departments thought since I was a woman, I didn’t know how to drive. I finally took it to the Peterbilt factory in Denton, and they sent some guy who had never been in a truck to ride with me. We started up a hill. The truck felt like it was going to explode, and the nitwit said, ' "Teeelll, mmmme wheenn yooou thiink it staaarts to shaake."'
a million miles
on her odometer