Digital Footprint … Let’s Roll.

pickup truck

I am on a roll as my friend Clifford likes to put it.  Why not? 

The-Old-Truck made it all the way to the gas station today, and it was just under $65 to fill it up!  I am on a roll.  Called DISH Network and after patiently punching several hundred numbers, got connected with a nice lady who …. believe it or not …. actually spoke English.

At that time, I asked Nice Lady to cut my service to DISH and she inquired of me the reason for this action.  As polite as I could, I explained to her in no uncertain terms, “I was sick of paying $125 per month for Fifty-Year Old movies and commercials every nine minutes on the button.”

Four minutes later it is done. 

She exclaims almost as if she had hit a hole in one, grabbed a First Place Ribbon at the County Fair, that was easy Mr. Smith! 

Poof it is gone … and so is my roll.

Now I am “Cable Dish Impaired bare bones minimum” and I get squat, but I get it all for $40 a month.  All of the sudden the world seems just a little bit rosier, when you are no longer bundled up and being prostituted for pennies a day with a computerized conglomerate out of Atlanta.

Throughly enjoying my roll, I spot the Snap On Tool Guy in his truck, follow him around like a stalker recently out on parole, he finally parks at the tire shop.  I ask Mr. Snap On Guy “do you have one of them suckers, they put on a gas shock to hold up the hood? (Okie Technical term he quickly recognizes)  I need one.” 

He says, “Yup, sure do, got one of them right here.  It’s only $24.”  Out of the corner of my eye, I see “my roll” slithering out the back door of the tool truck. 

Too rich for my blood, not today.  Thanked the guy, told him I was low on money as I had just bought a case of beer, some non-Marlboro-generic smokes, big bag of Teriyaki Beef Jerky and 22 lottery tickets, with the double your bucks option. 

On my exit from the rolling tool time fun bus, I also made a genuine heart-felt promise to “catch him later on it during the week.  As soon as my Child Support cleared the bank.”

Which of course, aint gonna happen.

At or about this time, the Oklahoma Sky opens up.  It starts to rain, not a regular rain mind you, like they have in Ohio or South Carolina.  But rather a heavy rain, a Texas Toad Choker, one of them … “I am telling you Wally it was like a cow pissing on a flat rock” kind of downpours. 

The roll has evaporated, and so has my expansive giving attitude on life.  My wipers seem to be inoperative at this moment in time.  This is very un-good, y’sir, not good at all.

Running over the curb, I swing into McDonalds, decorated recently with another load of(some of them still warm), very used baby diapers.  I park a little bit over the line, kind of catty-whompous to the flower bed, like a seasoned professional, and fish out the spare fuse container.

I have ONE FUSE that I need left. 

Insert it in the respective hole and swish, the wipers start working like new.  I am … wait for it … I am back on my roll. 

Walk inside The Playhouse of Burgers, not a whole lot of people in here today.  A semi-depressed crack user, two kids heavily into body piercings and black finger nail polish.  The kid at the counter doesn’t have any visible sores on his face, he gets my order right on the first pass (no I am not making this up) and believe it or not, it all comes back just like it was supposed to.

Like I said, “I am on a roll.” 

As an added Mid Week bonus my digital foot-print is lighter and my doctor’s appointment is at 9:30 A.M.  Way past rush hour …  I got it made.  Sitting in my fifteen year old pickup truck, with a crack as big as Dixie running the entire windshield, munching on some dead dairy cow, idling away on a fuel tank filled to the brim (and then some) with cheap Arab gas. 

My world is suddenly circumspect, I am all aglow, almost tingly inside.  For a brief moment in time, I was reeling in all the goodness of the universe, and then realized, it was my cellphone which was set on vibrate.

Looking down at the phone resting just off my right elbow I think to myself  $120 a month for a telephone? … and it hit me faster than a donut eater at a Weight Watchers Convention … there is another sucker that could use a little trimming too.

Hey … Where the hell are my fries?

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[909 words are any of you still awake?  Well, whadya expect for free.]

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