Your Truck Turns Me On

Yeah you, with the rusted out 70’s Ford F-150 full-size Ranger, 1978 I think. Two-toned; mint & classic green. Yeah you. You caught me checking out your truck. I even lowered my sunglasses for that one. I almost hit the X-Terra in front of me.

I bet you’re wondering what’s a die-hard Chevy girl like me doing looking at a Ford like you? Well, you see I was brought up a Ford girl. My Daddy had a 1978 black Ford F-150. My Mama went backwards down Hillman Hill in that truck, and lived to tell the tale. That truck was a monster. It was the first truck I drove at age 11, on the two-track out back behind our house on 104th Street. I almost hit our garage when I couldn’t reach the brake fast enough. I think I nearly gave my Dad a heart-attack.

My first vehicle when I got my license was a 90’s black Ford Ranger 2-door, extended cab with a topper. It was my Dad’s, but I drove it all the time. To get under his skin, people would call it “Mel’s truck.” I loved that thing. I used to drive to my boyfriend’s house going 70 miles per hour down backroads.

So you see, Fords are in my blood. And ones like you don’t come around too often. Fords just aren’t made like that anymore, which is why I’m now a Chevy girl. I drive an 03 Chevy Silverado 2-door extended cab. Her name is Big Blue, and she’s got me through some shit! I wouldn’t trade her, or cheat on her for anything, but you still caught my eye.

I can’t lie, I imagined you and I driving around together. Your crank-shaft windows rolled down, Harley and Reese on the bench seat beside me…. Yeah, we’d look good together.