Really, Saint Louis?

Monday, March 19^th, 2012

      For anybody driving long haul trucks, getting home is perhaps the most compelling event that can happen. When it comes to stopping for a while with friends and family, you'll be willing do things you normally would not. I'm not one to sling iron, but I will if it means the difference between getting home or not. (“sling iron” is trucker speaking for putting snow chains on your tires). We become willing to drive the last bit of our hours to get that much further the next day. Today felt quite good to roll out of the southeast, let me tell you.

      I was pretty jazzed for leaving my pick up an hour and a half before my appointment time. Blasting out of Nashville and into Kentucky, I just wanted to put the miles behind me. To be quite frank, it went smoothly. I listened to unit 7 of Pimsleur's Spanish 1, and will certainly have to listen to it again. Otherwise, the drive was wonderfully uneventful until St. Louis.

      I have a friend from St. Louis, and the place reminds me of him. Driving across I-64, you get a splendid view of the Arch that the city is so famous for. I've heard it was quite the feat to actually connect the two separate legs. Apparently, the sun and heat would twist the metal so much that it would have been exceptionally difficult to fuse the towers barring an engineering miracle. Then come the billboards. I saw several advertising Budweiser. It seems that they take their beer somewhat seriously here. Some blurb about some kind of 2011 sports championship. But what struck me the most was how beautiful it could actually be.

      I've been on the northern side more often (along I-70) and it tends to be a grittier place than what I saw today. A park stretched along the interstate for miles, with people walking, biking and jogging along a path. Union Station looked well cared for, and the buildings looked spiffy.

      To help me get a feel for the place, I like to look into the windows of cars that pass me. I do this mostly because I pass so few cars, and I can't see into them when I am passing, the truck is too wide and high. So I am compelled to look down into the cars going by. Sometimes, I'll get a wave and a smile. Rarely, I'll get a kid wanting me to honk my big horn, which I happily oblige. I was that kid once. The most common event is an empty passenger seat with nothing going on.

      Sure, I get people talking on cell phones, people texting, but some days you get some odd balls. Disappointingly uncommon is sighting animals riding shotgun. Nothing is more fun than seeing a dog hang its head out the window, tongue flapping in the maelstrom. I recall an incident involving a man reading a newspaper. Impressive, but foolish. This evening just outside of St Louis, I had a girl picking at one of her feet. Very flexible!

      The most memorable one happened today. I looked over and saw some guy *ahem* pleasuring himself. There should be such a thing as eye bleach, or a mind wipe. He was driving just slow enough to pass me, but not fast enough to pass quickly. Its just after rush hour, so maybe he's enjoying himself after a hard day of work, no pun intended. I mean, this has got to happen all the time right? Sure, why not? My first instinct was to vomit, which I luckily repressed. Not that the act itself if repulsive, more the idea that I got the impression that he wanted me to see it. I so hope that is not true. There are some odd people out there for sure. I'm going to comfort myself and choose to believe that he did not think anyone could see him workin' it. Please let that be true.