Vroom

It's now that time in the show where we talk about my truck.

I have a 1989 Nissan truck, 2 door, manual. No handle for passenger door. Gas gauge? Nope. Power Steering? Nope. Radio? Nope. How many speeds for your wipers? Two.

I discovered another little glitch today.

I'm driving North on I-95, minding my own business. There is a heap of dirty laundry in the passenger seat, and my trusty laptop is attempting to blare tunes over the whine of a V4 attempting highway speed. I'm headed home for the weekend.

It's approxiamately 8:00pm. I'm in the right lane, cruising along, and spilling scalding Cinnabon coffee on my crotch. I look in my rear view, and see a car right on my ass. So I, being a gentleman, pulled into the left lane to allow this person to pass.

This person followed me into the left lane, and for a few moments I remember thinking, "Ooh a friend."

Blues.

Siren.

My friend pulls me over, and decides that he'd like to see my license and registration. He informs me that I was traveling at 85 mph- thats miles per hour for my Canadian readers.

Well I just happened to be checking my speedometer, and according to that instrument, I was traveling at 70. Well I found out the hard way that the needle gets STUCK ON 70.

But here's what I love. As I'm explaining to him the joys of driving a shitty vehicle, he gets a call on his radio.

"10-83, possibly heading towards your position. Please respond."

And in the next moment, my friend was gone.

I love my truck.