My Chevy Silverado keeps on racking up the miles. Dependable and sure
enough has always been worthwhile.
But from years of climbing in and out, the running boards were bent. They
were rusted through and full of holes. Their years of use were spent.
My good friend, our mechanic, helped remove each running board. He
said, “Go buy some new ones or you’ll fall out on your gourd.”
I told him he was prob’ly right. I’m such a clumsy tub. Then I opened up
the truck door. Tried to pull myself on up.
I grabbed the steering wheel and then I made a big mistake. As I hopped
up with my left foot, my right lodged underneath the brake.
With my right foot stuck I couldn’t move. I’d say this is the pits. With my left
foot hanging off the ground, my stiff legs did the splits.
I’ve always wondered ’bout the splits. Is there a kind of rule? And if I might
now qualify for old man cheering school.
My mechanic got me out of my red faced predicament. I sat there in the
driver’s seat so full of discontent.
I knew I needed running boards just one more big expense. I guess I’d
grab the money set aside for brand new fence.
I pulled into Hank’s Auto Shop and talk about bad luck. I opened up my
door and fell right underneath the truck.
The fellow parked right next to me came running up to help. He said he
didn’t see me fall but surely heard me yelp.
He stuck around to watch till he could see I wasn’t hurt. He even used a
broom to help me brush off all the dirt.
I shook his hand then watched him put his broom back in the trunk. I
heard his good wife holler out. “I think the man is drunk.”
From not having running boards I’ve done the splits and bit the dust. Been
called a drunk, I must conclude, running boards should be a must.
I’ve ordered brand new running boards. I hope they get here soon. ‘Cuz
without the running boards I’m just a clumsy guy buffoon.
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