I checked out the progress being made on repairing my new truck today. It’s getting close. I’m thinking I should have it by the weekend. Of course, every Monday when Marcee and I have lunch she asks me the same question, “When are you going to get your truck?” and I reply, “I should have it by the weekend.”, it causes her to smile knowingly and role her eyes at me.

I don’t care. I have faith. I’ll just keep saying it and eventually it’ll be true.

“I should have it by the weekend!”

But the purpose of this post isn’t to talk about my new truck. It’s to pay tribute to my current and soon to be old truck. I’ve complained often about the old girl, but I realized the other day that she’s served me well these past two years. And, in my opinion, she still looks good! I have to say that I still love the look of these Hilux’s. Good job Toyota…

Rather than fill this page with all my driving stories, which I’ve told before, I thought I’d let some pictures speak for me…

There you go…the story of my truck.  As a bookend to this episode in my life, the guy who rearended me a month ago, called me last week.  In the accident his licsence plate fell off his truck and I threw it in the back of mine…and then forgot to give it to him.  So he was asking if we could meet so he could have it back.  I said sure and we arrange a place. 

I arrived to find him waiting with another truckload of his closest friends who managed to quickly form a circle around us.  My circle of closest friends (four of the guys) were obliviously waiting for me in my truck listening to the radio.  I need new friends.  This fellow went on to “suggest” that since we were both “good people” and the accident was not either of our faults (but was the fault of the drunk guy walking across the road), I should pay for half of the damages to his truck.  I played the polite Canadian and didn’t say much.  I’m pretty sure everyone was kind of waiting for a fight.  I could smell alcohol on more than a few of them.  I did mention once that I managed to stop and not hit the drunk guy and if he’d been watching a bit more carefully, he might have been able to stop as well.  He disagreed.  One of his friends who was standing next to me just kept saying in broken English, “I’d pay him if I were you.  I’d pay him.  I’d pay him if I were you.  I’d pay him.”  Yes, well…you’re not me and if you want to pay some drunk idiot money that he doesn’t deserve…well, feel free….

Like I said, I just continued to be the nice, polite Canadian I am, and didn’t argue.  No one was quite sure how to respond to that.  I told him that I would have to think about it and that, of course, I didn’t have the money on me right now.  I suggested that he call  me in a couple of days and we could talk some more.

God was good and he fell for it.  Like I’m ever going to answer the phone if I see his number come up.  Ha.  I calmly drove away and left him and his friends contemplating what they were going to do now.  He doesn’t know where I live and soon I won’t even have that same truck.  So good luck finding me.  I think he must have sobered up and realized that…he hasn’t called back.

So long my faithful Toyota Hilux.  It’s been fun.  First thing I do with the new truck is head for my trusty insurance company and insure that baby to the max…