that guy with the broken muffler

rumbling and roaring through life

When we first began dating, Laura was always waiting outside of her house. She knew I was coming before I got there. No. I didn’t text her. I didn’t have a ‘cell phone’. Nor did I call and give her an accurate ETA.

She was always ready because she could hear me before I got there. My muffler had a hole in it. I eventually had it patched. And much like my old, blue Mazda 323, it’s like I’ve lived my life with a hole in my muffler. I get noticed and heard even when I don’t want to.

It still happens. I love my truck. And, in purchasing a 30+ year old truck, I knew that I was getting into a relationship with a mechanic rather than a relationship with a bank. Yesterday, while driving to the lake, the muffler fell off. I stopped and threw it into the bed. I’ll reattach it this week.

As I pulled into the campground I encountered my uncle and cousin. The two of them were grinning from ear to ear. That truck of yours… It sounds like it’s missing something. They chuckled just a bit as they spoke.