Whenever I’m getting to know someone, I always enjoy this part of the relationship. I remember it as the relationship progresses, referring to it in my mind if ever I feel the openness begin to fade. I would later find that Art enjoyed this openness much like me.

We were driving partners who took turns at the helm of an 18-wheeler. While one person drove, the other one slept. At least, that’s what we were told to write in our D.O.T. driving logs. To anyone who passed us on the road, we were road-pros. But in reality, we were a couple of newbies. New to the truck, new to the road, new to Chicago, and maybe scariest of all, new to each other.

Even though Art was quite a bit older than me, he relied on me to drive us to the v

I heard his daughter crying in anger at him when he broke his promise to watch her in the long-jump event. It was her first time as a Varsity player. We were on the road. We were in another town. Too far away to just run over, take a look, give a hug, and then go back to work.

Now, I’m not sure just how much smoke he sucked in, but I can assure you, I got half of every cigarette he ever smoked in that damn truck. Since he was my partner, I didn’t want to say anything. But one day I noticed he hadn’t smoked for a few days. I finally asked him if he actually quit, and he said that he had. When I found this out, I really had to contain myself from making too big a scene, for this was my day-to-day life, after all. So, as politely as I could, I gave him thanks for quitting. A few weeks later by flint’s torment, my headaches returned, more wicked than ever.

Some topics in this essay:
Maybe I’m, Crocodile Hunter”, Frequently Art, Whenever I’m, Illinois Winter, Moines I’m, Chi-town Art, Des Moines, wife hated, des moines, hadn’t smoked, customer service, told wife, truck height, told wife hated, truck road,