Yesterday my good friend Natalie and I decided to drive 4 hours to pick up some good friends. (well, I was kidnapped to do this, and the friends are not really friends.) Anyway, the drive went fairly quickly and I met some nice truckers while I was abandoned at a Subway/ pit stop somewhere in eastern PA. I heard their life story, or at least a condensed version, and from what I heard maybe I want to go into truckin'.
No, okay no i don't... but listening to their stories made me question any sort of snobbery I had before about meth infused cracked out toothless truckers. This was two nice souls, clean enough, and fairly well spoken. They were in love, and traveled around the country in their truck seeing the odd and the bizarre while making BANK.
"every state has their own collection of wackos"
-quote from trucker family.
can you imagine their rotating schedule, one drives 11 hours, then switch, the other drives 11 hours, over and over and over and
jesus I'd die.
anyway. Oh and I might be in an art show. its lame and not really anything, but its something. another something to tack onto my "resume."
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