About Me

I feel the wanderlust and the call of the open highway. Which is good, because I drive cars for a living. But I'm a writer, and someday hope to once again make my living using my writing skills.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

THE EAST COAST ROUTE

In all the years I've been driving, I've still never met my boss Riff. To me, he's just a very unpleasant voice on the phone who gives me my assignments. But I felt it was time to meet him face to face and confront him about his new idea to have me only drive up and down the east coast. From Miami to Maine, and all states in-between. I like traveling all over America, and was afraid that this limitation might mean I'd potentially make less money. Not that I make all that much already.

He gave me the address of his office, so I got there very early in the morning. I waited for him to arrive, and suddenly a large cube van came bouncing up into the parking lot moving way too fast. The vehicle looked like it was out of control, but it came to a screeching halt just short of hitting the building.

The door opened, and out came Andy the crazy driver. The last time I had seen him he was in his underwear galloping around a Bob Evan's parking lot, shouting out dialogue from the movie TRUE GRIT.

"So its you again," Andy said with malice in his voice. "My old adversary. My nemesis. Number one on my hit list, and that's number one with a bullet."

"Hi, Andy."

"Don't try that 'Hi Andy' crap with me. No sir! You left me out in a parking lot, and I don't forgive that. I may forget it, but I won't forgive it."

"I left because you were acting like a maniac, and I wanted to get to work."

"Maniac? You're calling me a maniac? Well let me tell you something, the police showed up soon after you left, no thanks to you. How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't feel much at all. You made your bed."

"I don't sleep in a damn bed, I sleep on the hard cold ground like a man, like the men of the old west, like pioneers who made our country great."

I nodded. "Whatever you say. I'm just here to see Riff."

"I knew it! I knew you were trying to stab me in the back. Well it won't work, Mister."

"What won't work?"

"It. You. The plan." Andy pulled out a prescription pill bottle and poured several into his mouth.

"What plan, Andy?"

"Oh you are good, you're very, very good. You look at me like a friend, but you plot against me like the most cunning enemy. It reminds me of that movie... uh..."

"Which movie?"

"Any number of movies where the bad guy has it in for the good guy!"

"I'm supposed to be the bad guy here?"

Andy snapped his fingers. "STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN, that's one of the movies that has the theme I speak of. Khan wants to kill Captain James T. Kirk so bad. So very bad. But guess who prevailed in the end?"

"Kirk?"

"No, the good guy, its always the good guy. Now listen good, I've had about enough of your plethora of chicanery."

"Gee Andy, your vocabulary is increasing."

"Don't tease me, don't you dare."

"Calm down, I'm just going to speak to Riff and then I'm going to leave. Is that OK?"

"No it is not OK. Riff explained to me that you want to take my routes, and that he's putting you exclusively on the east coast. Well two can play this game."

"What game?"

"The game of life, butterball. I'm gonna take your east coast route, and then you'll have nothing. Nothing! You hear what I'm saying? You are an interloper, and I'm going to cut off your lopes and feed them to you for breakfast, with a side order of sausage gravy." Andy stopped and got emotional. "No one could make sausage gravy like my dear old Aunt Bessie." He wiped the tears from his eyes. "You bastard, why did you have to go and mention Aunt Bessie. Damn you to hell." Andy jumped into the cube van, started it and revved the engine. Then he backed into a building and knocked some plaster loose, and then drove off a high curb onto the street.

By now I should be used to encounters with Andy, but he can still shake me up a bit with his odd behavior. My cell phone rang. It was Riff. "I am waiting outside your office, Riff."

"I know you are, my little plum dumpling. But I'm on vacation elsewhere."

"Why did you tell me to come here, then?"

"Oh, it was you who wanted to come and meet with me. So I called Andy and told him you were out to take his territory. I told him he could find you at my office this morning. Has he arrived yet?"

"Yes, he was here. Why in the world would you tell him that?"

"Because I can. Because its fun. Now he wants your head for lunch."

"I think Andy is more of a breakfast guy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind. Riff, I don't need that crazy SOB having some kind of vendetta against me. I'll be looking over my shoulder all the time."

Riff giggled with glee. "Oh thank you, that image just made my day. You are so right, Andy will hound you all the way to the gates of Hell and back. You are now number one on the top of his shit list."

"So you just wanted to pit him against me?"

"Yes I certainly did. Gotta say, feels great." Riff hung up.

As if I don't have enough to worry about with road rage drivers, thieves, vagabonds, and 'Bill's people' out there on the highways, now I have nutty Andy gunning for me. Oh well, at least I know I can seek refuge at Karen's Natural Cafe every week if I'm driving the east coast route.

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