milk

Spoken by my friend Brett in a whispery silly voice – “It’s quite obvious we are under attack. We are spiritual warriors, and the devil doesn’t want us to deliver the milk…”
I laughed so hard I thought I might choke.

We had just had some Chinese buffet, and I hadn’t got past the initial gastro-intestinal concerns to allow me to make any recommendation on how good the food actually was…I figured by morning I’d have a pretty good idea if we had a good meal, or not.

This was the second time ‘the man’ had delayed milk delivery to Yaks, both resulting in some form of fix-it ticket. The first time was the result of expired tags on roommate’s rig. This particular time we had a lack of red plastic over a running light. And as an extra bonus, we got to step out of the vehicle and perform a sobriety check. I assume having the backseat of your dust-covered hoopty-scooter crammed with 30 odd gallons of milk fits some sort of profile. Eventually we were pronounced, “okay” and could continue with our milk delivery tasks.

My favorite part was when the highway patrolman wouldn’t accept a free-drink coupon. He said that his sergeant was watching from the patrol car. He got real quiet and tried to explain it all cool-like and on the down-low there at my window.

So if you have a vehicle in some stage of disrepair, and are looking for motivation from the State to complete those repairs in 30 days, give me a ring and I’ll let you use your vehicle for my twice weekly milk run. I’d certainly hate to use up all these potential blessings with my own truck…that would just be selfish.