Okay, so we bought this truck. It's a 2005 Dodge Ram HD 2500 long bed super cab monster. I've never driven anything this big. Hell, I've never SEEN anything this big. My last truck was a 1962 Studebaker with tuck and roll upholstery. This is no Studebaker. Did I mention it's diesel?
After a month of driving the thing, this is the uneasy truce we've developed. I can now get in fairly easily. (I'm short and fat, it's big and tall. If we were a heterosexual couple, it might be a good match.) To get in, I have to put a foot on the running board thingy, grab the handle, and jump. But first I have to decide if I lead with my broken foot (still in a cast) or if I use that foot to jump with. (It's a flexible cast...more like a bootie with plastic and velcro and hot needles of fire jabbing into my foot.)
Depending on which foot I lead with, I may or may not make it all the way into the cab. With certain feet, I sort of land backwards or sideways. Oh, and first I have to lift Good Dog Gwyneth into the truck because she's even shorter than I am and she has a torn ACL.
No, we are not mean dog parents. Yes, we could get it fixed. For six thousand dollars. And she's part Springer Spaniel which means that she jumps on her hind legs like a maniac whenever she sees us. Yes, it's her hind ACL. And if we fixed it, she'd immediately tear it again because she's a SPRINGER. As far as I can make out, the only REAL skill Springers have is springing. Oh, and eating the mice the cats haul in.
Back to the truck. I am now in it. If I am behind the wheel, I also have to remember that starting a diesel truck is a two-part operation. Not that I always do remember, but I try. First you turn the key part way, and then wait for a little coil thingy on the dashboard to go out. If I could see the coil thingy, this would be pretty easy, but this is a BIG truck and I am impeded by the steering wheel which blocks my view of the dashboard.
Driving is pretty much like driving anything else, except you take up the whole lane. And so far I am terrified to take it into the city. The lanes are narrower there, and there are other cars, and I might have to PARALLEL PARK this sucker. So far, I've either avoided or cancelled anything that has had the remotest possibility that I might have to parallel park the behemoth. You know those white lines you're supposed to park between? Impossible. This thing fills the white lines and then some.
Now, we're back in the driveway. I've avoided the tree (the one Jenny didn't avoid), and I'm ready to get out. It's long way down. Especially with a broken foot. Up until a couple of days ago, I just slid slowly down the seat, unsure that the ground was actually there for me. Now I have more faith and slide part way down then give a little self-assured drop.
So far, this new lifestyle is shaping up to be a real adventure.....