I need a man-truck

So, on vacation we went to visit my friend Matt (you can see the pictures here). Anyway, while there we decided to go to his buddy’s farm to see the baby pigs. After driving from Matthew’s house in the middle of nowhere to his friend’s house (much further into nowhere… then down a long dirt road) we arrived. It wasn’t so much a farm per-se but that’s not really the point of the story.

So, we were there, hanging out and talking with matt’s friend when my son climbed up into Matt’s Ford F-250 4×4 man truck. Now, apparently in south Georgia it is required that all men have a truck. So, shortly after Asher got in, another friend showed up in his truck. After grabbing a Bud Light out of the cooler in his truck bed for all of us (along with having a truck I think you also have to drink crappy beer in south Georgia) we began to chat.

Since Asher was in the man truck and having a good time we began to talk about trucks. Jennifer mentioned how one day she was driving down the road with Asher when he said, “momma, da-da needs a man truck.” We all had a laugh and then friend #2 asked, and it still haunts my dreams, “so, what kind of truck do you drive now?”

It was at that moment that I realized… I drive a toyota avalon… and when I’m not in that… I drive a mini-van. With nothing to say, I put on a skirt (figuratively) and pointed over my shoulder and said, “a honda odysee.” There was an awkward silence as all the men kind of looked that their beer, or the sky, or anywhere but at me, as if to pretend that comment was never uttered out loud.

Our conversation dissipated shortly after that and we all left. I’d like to think it was because of the swarm of gnats that 8 people attract when standing in the woods of south Georgia… but deep down I think it was the fact that I don’t have a truck… and that I like imported beer.

Man, I need a man truck (but the beer stays).

One thought on “I need a man-truck

  1. The other week I drove my landlord’s Toyota Avalon and I thought it was a really nice car. However, it was Marcie’s car. Scott, her husband, does drive a man truck. oh well. :)