I spent my childhood on a dirt road in the middle of the desert, the only one I could find.
I would spend hours on end waiting for my ride.
There were always three of us: a mother, her daughter, and me.
The mother would drive and we would walk in circles.
It was the most miserable place on earth.
It didn’t matter if you were on a motorcycle, a car, or a truck, it would always be a race against time to get home.
That was until one day my father, a former mechanic, told me he was going to sell his truck.
It would be my last day on earth and I would be leaving it behind.
I’d been through hell before.
The truck was just one of many pieces of junk I owned and couldn’t afford to fix.
So I took it back to my dad and asked him to keep it as a keepsake.
He agreed, so I sold it.
Then I bought a new truck.
I didn’t have the money for the truck anymore, but I wanted to make sure I was getting my money’s worth.
So when I bought my first truck, I decided to make it as simple as possible.
I took off my helmet, stripped off my clothes, and put on a t-shirt and shorts.
I wanted my first ride to be as smooth as possible and as fun as possible, so after the first few minutes, I put my helmet back on and took off.
I wasn’t going to let my first trip to the office be anything but fun.
But my first few rides didn’t go as planned.
My girlfriend’s friend was the driver and had just gotten back from the gym, so we were driving around the desert for hours.
One time, my friend got lost and I was able to catch up with him.
We had some time to kill and we decided to go for a ride.
I made my way to a little town called Eureka, about 30 minutes away from the town I grew up in.
I told my friend I’d come pick him up.
He was ecstatic.
We drove for a few hours and I realized my mistake.
It’s not like I was a big fan of driving, so he was the only person I had to ask for directions.
After a while, we reached a small town called Ketchum, about 15 miles from Eurekah.
There, we stopped at a gas station and I asked the lady there if she had any gas for us.
She said, “I don’t think there’s any.
I just thought we could pick up a couple of gas stations.”
I said, okay, why don’t you give me a ride?
She handed me a small plastic bag and she said, just give me the rest.
So we pulled into a gas truck, and the first thing I did was look in the back seat.
I was so happy.
There was no gas, no change, nothing.
My eyes were wide open.
I looked at the gas station attendant and he looked at me and he said, how come you just didn’t give me gas?
I thought, I’ll give you a ride, but this is my first time driving a gas-powered vehicle, so what the hell am I going to do?
So I got out of the truck and drove away.
I don’t know how long I went, but when I got home, I went back and looked at my new truck and it was in perfect shape.
I had bought the right stuff.
The only thing I had done wrong was not putting on the helmet.
I knew that if I wore it, I would burn out fast.
So why did I buy the wrong stuff?
I told myself it was a mistake I had made, but the truth was, I just didn.
The real reason I bought the wrong truck was because I thought it was the easiest thing to do.
I thought if I didn’s it would be a breeze.
But, the more I looked in the rearview mirror, the less I believed it.
When I went to the dealer, they told me that if my truck had a problem, I could replace it for a $250 deposit.
I’m not sure why I did this, but it worked.
My car is now a work of art and I have a new lease on life.
I’ve had the perfect commute to work, my job is well-paying, and I can enjoy the outdoors without worry about gas prices.
But now I’ve got a problem.
I can’t stop worrying about gas.
After getting my first job, I was still worried about gas when I was starting my second job.
I remember one day I was driving home from work when my driver got in a car accident.
He lost control and hit the brakes and I hit the gas.
The next thing I knew, I had two broken bones in my left hand.
I went home and went to sleep.
When the next day came, I still couldn’t