Another Mess

Leaving the Hill. Check out those tail pipes.

What shiny wheels you have? These could make some men drool.

This is what you see when I get up close to your back window. Heehee.

Side view of my temporary truck.

This is Steve Bass the owner of the truck. I had taken the silver bullet (my Buick) over on Thursday for him to see about fixing the shimmy when I get a lead foot and it was gonna need more time than I had hoped for them to fix it.

Steve came in and sat down and told me what was wrong with the silver bullet and it was a part that could break loose and the it would go one way while I was going the other way. So not wanting the the following written in my death notice "The silver bullet went left when Kitty Justice was trying to go right." I asked if he could fix it. He said sure he could and I could take his truck and go anywhere I wished. Now knowing how Men love their trucks I asked " You would trust me with your truck?" He grinned and said" SURE, I will lend you my truck but not my Harley." So I agreed to take the man's truck while he worked on the silver bullet. Before I went out the door, he said just keep the truck overnight as I have a ride home. As I climbed into the truck and tried to adjust the seat because it was set at six feet man length, Stanley (a older man who is extremely nice and a new grandpa) took pity on me and came out and adjusted it for me. I thanked him and then cranked her up. Whoa!! It did not start but ROARED from those twin tail pipes. Each time I slowed for a traffic light or had to slow down, and then stompted the gas, it would roar away and I would smile and go back to the seventies. The first car I owned was a 1973 Nova and my little brother talked me into twining her out and putting a glass pack muffler on her. My little Nova did not have the power of this 350 so I was enjoying the ride. Going back to my youth each time I pressed the gas pedal. Ah, I will not give you fact just that time travel has never been so much fun.

I did not take the man's truck anywhere but the grocery and gas station. As I was driving this memorabilia machine, I did not recognize as I went down the road it was saying , one gallon, two gallon, etc. etc.

Now as soon as I pulled her into the garage, the telephone started ringing and I had six new friends all wanting me to move them with my new found truck. The next day I lost these friends when I returned the truck to the owner. LOL

I did take the interstate and had a wonderful ride back to his business with the window rolled down. Gotta hear the ROAR.

The kitty justice is CUSTOMER SERVICE is alive and well at Bass Tire. When I returned the keyes and told him I had such a blast from the past, he told me his truck was available anytime, I needed a lift.

Now that is REAL KITTY JUSTICE.