Wet

Doin’ the Yuma to Bakersfield route always did get Bart down, he thought on a day when the desert rose to 110 in the shade and the snakes didn’t come out. It pissed him off today because the air conditioner in his cab had busted out and he had to make it to Bakersfield, hell or high water, get the delivery to the Safeway distribution coreplex. Least, they called it that, their distribution coreplex. Bart had no idea where they ever came up with coreplex, but what’d he care, so long as he dumped the stuff and got his commission?

If he didn’t, he’d lose his truck. So he turned on the C.B. to hear what was happenin’ up the road. Maybe he could catch some babes at the next lounge bar with some other truckers. He’d been wantin’ some lately, hadn’t been getting it for at least a week or ten days runnin’. A record for Bart.

He saw the Mustang convertible come up the rear on his left. Too fast, the idiots. Top was down, too – instant death in a rollover. When they got up to him, he dropped his mouth. Two babes, both in white tanks and jeans shorts. Tan and blonde, wet t-shirts, knockers galore, tight hips – woah, Mamma, he’d hit it out of the ballpark with these two. His heart began to race, and he accelerated. Couldn’t let them out of his sight.

“Hey, truckers, I got me some live ones passin’ in a Mustang,” he radioed over the C.B. “I’m gonna nail ‘em.”

But the Mustang passed him too fast, so he floored the accelerator. Good vision, no turns, nothin’ to worry about. He just had to have those babes, could just feel himself getting excited down there. Before he knew it, they were a hundred yards in front of him. And then he hit his stride – they didn’t get any further than a hundred. And then it seemed like he was getting closer, and closer, and closer –

Bart didn’t see the rusty Ford pick-up on the entrance ramp, and when it collided with his truck, he weaved to the left, to the right, and then his cab flipped over and the trailer turned over away from the pick-up and slid until they stopped. Dazed – not sure if this was the end – Bart stared up at the steering wheel in front of his face and his left hand.

Well, Bart thought – at least if I die, I’m still wearin’ my weddin’ ring.