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Ms. Adventure
The wacky wendings of my life on the road.
Coming out of the Thanksgiving weekend, what I am most thankful for is making it back home to San Francisco without incident driving a 16' rental truck. I had to rent a truck to take back a piece of furniture and a few miscellaneous boxes that my parents had been storing for me since I left home back in 1996. I finally bought a house this summer, so I was going to have space for the gorgeous china cabinet I inherited from my grandmother.
We had ordered a 10' truck, which already was too big for our cargo, and when we went to pick up the truck Saturday morning, we were informed that there were no 10' trucks on the lot, so we'd get a 16' for the same price.
Reminder: I drive a del Sol. The entire car could have fit in the back of this truck.
At any rate, we set off a couple of hours later from Phoenix to San Francisco having to stop a few times along the way for my husband to expunge himself of the remnants of the food poisoning he received from the sunny side up eggs he had for dinner at the casino we went to the night before for my mother's birthday.
Phew!
I drove most of the way to our halfway point in Los Angeles due to the aforementioned food poisoning and I must say, people drive like butt. There were a few times when a car would zip past us, nearly taking off the back end of the truck because they had to get around someone who they felt was driving too slowly in the fast lane.
Another thing - truck drivers really can't see you! Like -- really, really. Sure, trucks have these big side mirrors, but I'm telling you there were a couple of times where I almost side swiped someone because I didn't see them until I started switching lanes. Maybe it's my lack of truck driving experience. Regardless, it was really scary.
Through the two nerve wracking days of driving this beast, I have to say I've come out of it with a new appreciation for truck drivers. I wish you all safe travels -- especially for my truck driver brother.
Oh, and that gorgeous china cabinet? The sucker doesn't fit nicely anywhere in my home, so it's covered in plastic down in our basement. :-\
One of my best friends (let’s call him “Bill”) introduced me to a very fascinating hand gesture a few years back. No, not that one (I learned that one in kindergarten; I did experience my formative years in N.Y. and N.J. after all). No, this hand gesture is rather an ordinary one and quite benign:
 Yes, a simple “thumb’s down” with some motion to the gesture. You wave your forearm up and down at the elbow joint raising and lifting the “thumb’s down”. Bill used this gesture to express his distaste with something. He’d also say “Booooooooooo” while he made the gesture and so, I came to call the gesture “The Boo”. I, of course, spending much time at bars hanging out with my buddy Bill had immense exposure to “The Boo” and so, came to adopt it as well.
One day, around this time (being fully in the throws of reveling in my newly found gesture) I experienced a moment of serendipity in new use of “The Boo”. I was in Santa Monica heading north on 4th Street and turned right to get onto the 10 freeway. There are two lanes on this on-ramp that merge into one. As was par for the course, the car that was originally waiting behind me to turn onto the freeway sped up and tried to pass around on the right. However, the person driving didn’t leave themselves enough time to get around, so they ended up getting back behind me, very close on my tail and stayed there. Well, he stayed on my tail that is, until I put my right arm up in full view of my rear window and gave him “The Boo”.
Time seemed to stop. The car slowed down and pulled back. The driver, expecting an entirely different hand gesture, didn’t know what to make of this new one at all. His entire body language changed. It was sort of a physical manifestation of the abbreviation “wtf?” used in IM conversations. Very deer-in-the-headlights crossed with things-that-make-you-go-hmmm.
I drove on and left the driver, stunned, in the wake of “The Boo”. I laughed non-stop for a solid three miles. So, the next time you’re driving and find yourself in a position to use “The Boo”, go for it and see what type of reaction you get. I’ll bet that the laugh you get out of the confused recipient’s reaction will make any potential road rage you might have experienced otherwise melt away.
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