Thursday, July 2, 2009

I just need to pretend.

Phone call, earlier this evening:

Him: Are you sleeping?

Me: Not yet.

Him: I just talked to Seymour. He's camping, but we'll both be there.

Me: That's great. I couldn't do it without you guys.

Him: This is your brother, by the way.

Me: I know, I have call display.

Him: So, what time?

Me: I don't know, but it will be around late afternoon. I'll tell you this, I'm shitting my pants about driving a 26' truck to Nodnarb. I'll probably call you so that you can meet me at the Husky and drive this damn thing.

Him: That's nothing. It's like a 3-ton. Just remember your off-track. And find out if it takes diesel, there should be a sticker, but you can tell by the sound.

Me: Remember the last time I drove a truck bigger than a half-ton? I don't, but y'all keep telling me how I drove it into the granary. I was ten!

Him: You'll be fine. I have to shower now. I'll see you on Saturday.

Me: Yup.

Later: Oh, shit. I do not want to do this. And not just because one of my dearest friends is moving away from me. Though that is the major factor. The driving a 26' truck is just a minor annoyance. This really fucking sucks.

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