Closet Extremist

Redneck Street Cred...

For the last three and a half years, I've been a RINO (Redneck In Name Only). Sure, I'm a burly construction worker, I cuss a lot, I wear steel-toed boots, flannell and I are really close, and I hotwired my own vehicle as a work-around. All these things are pretty good, but there's been a glaring hole in my redneckitude, the one thing that all redneck's must have in some form... yep, that's right. A Pickup Truck.

Here lately, the minivan's been on the fritz (Hell, I oughtta revoke my own man-card for for merely typing those previous words.) and I've been looking for a new set of wheels. Since I've been driving up to Middlesboro, Kentucky for the last few weeks (I'm building an elevator up there), I've had my eye on a little Nissan pickup that's been sitting on a used car lot. I finally stopped in and checked it out last friday. up close, I liked it even better, as it reminded me of the last nissan pickup that I owned. I figured that if I could find a ride back up there Saturday morning, I might just get myself a new (to me) ride.

I made a few calls, and my Dad agreed to carry me to the dealership, so now all I had to do was make it to the bank in enough time to pull out the cash. After getting 35 crisp-new $100 bills, I finalized plans for the trip (It's an hour's drive from the crib). Dad showed up at the appointed time Saturday Morning, and we struck out for the wilds of New Tazewell, TN.

When we arrived at the dealership, I went5 straight for the vehicle that had caught my eye...'91 Nissan 4x4, Ice Blue, color matched camper top, reese hitch rear bumper, and it's a Five Speed "bolt action". I fired that thing up for my test drive, and spotted a wisp of blue smoke in the mirror. I got her out on the road, and realized that something wasn't right. As soon as I hit fourth gear, the tranny wasn't engaging... Fifth was worse. My dreams were dashed. The vehicle that I craved was a bum steer.

The dealer had a little toyota, that he'd sell me. Another 4x4, 4 cylinder, automatic, and the paint was peeling off it so fast that when I took it out, the chips stuck to the Goddamn windshield. While I was out driving, My Dad spied another truck on the lot. It was a two wheel drive, Five speed, manual transmission, with a few body issues, but appeared mechanically sound.

When I pulled out in this ride, I immediately knew that I had a new vehicle. Power was there... shifts were clean, and the interior was comfortable. I've now got me a 1996 GMC Sonoma pick-em-up-truckster, and I couldn't be more pleased. According to my Dad, I chirped the rear tires on a shift from second to third gear, on the drive home. I was jammin' the stereo at the time, so I missed it. I've driven aprox. 120 miles, and have just now drained a quarter of a tank out of it. I've got a feeling that my Dad spotted the ideal truck for me.

At any rate, I'ma rollin' a pickup now... so my street cred is pure. I'm thinkin' that a confederate flag front license plate is now in order... Just to seal the deal.

Posted by Johnny - Oh at October 8, 2006 10:13 PM | TrackBack