We have a friend who’s getting married in March. If you follow along on the regular, you’ve met her. Candy Critchfield was an Overdrive feature of mine last year, and she’s found herself a Gary and they’re going to hitch it up and become the Weir Bunch. We wish them the very best and certainly plan on being in Idaho for their nuptials next year.
I was talking to her earlier this week – she had been through New York during the storms and I was getting an update. She made it through without trouble, thanks to a local driver on the CB who warned her of the oncoming mess and guided her around it. (I don’t care what anyone says, 1: There’s still a whole lot of good people on the road. 2: Also, a CB is one of the most important tools you can have in the truck.)
She was telling me that she and Gary planned on meeting up at home for Thanksgiving, and then driving teams for a while. Needless to say, they’ve gotten a lot of unsolicited advice on how driving teams will make or break a relationship real quick-like. And while I don’t drive, I do spend a lot of time in the truck with my husband, and I know it can be stressful. However, you get what you give and learning to compromise makes any relationship stronger — so I also know it’s not a deal breaker.
We have our own little world inside the truck, one where we’ve both learned to ignore one another at the correct times. He can block out my loud and terrible singing and I can ignore his fascination with boobs. Most of the time. I put my foot down about the bobble boob dash girl — I just couldn’t go with it.
“That needs to go.”
“What?! Are you kidding me? I ordered her especially for this trip!”
“I can’t be distracted by springy boobs the entire 3,000 miles. We’re in a ten-year-old Freightliner. By the time we hit Arkansas, her springs will be sprung and those boobs will be all gross and dangly.”
