From the Driver's Seat... Mardi Gras and More

When a group of seasoned truck drivers are together and sharing stories for awhile there is a strong possibility that one of them will tell of a flasher in a passing car.  Then a game of “one-up” will start with everyone relating their own experiences.  I don’t want to give the impression that it’s Mardi Gras from coast to coast on our interstate highways.  Personally, I have only been flashed on average of once or twice per year.  

Without doubt though, there are a few women who seem to take delight in displaying their unfettered assets from their passing cars.  There is not a better highway vantage point for witnessing such behavior than from the high mounted driver’s seat of a truck.  So far, I've not known a male truck driver to be offended by this practice.

I’m a curious person and not usually bashful about asking questions that others probably would not.  I have asked women truck drivers if they ever witness flashers of the opposite gender.  Sure enough, those that are comfortable talking about such things have some stories to tell.  Most of those, whom I asked, have seen soldiers in the cars below in all states of readiness.

I remember one sweet lady’s story in particular.  Jeanie was a soft spoken sort of person that didn’t care for rough language.  If you spoke to her using even mildly profane adjectives she would respond with, “Excuse me?”  Jeanie had a way of saying “excuse me” that you clearly understood to mean “if you don’t stop cussing I’m going to separate you from certain parts of your anatomy that are specific to your gender.”

Jeanie first told a story of a woman, rather than a man, in the passenger seat of a passing car.  The woman was in a very compromising position and state of undress.  She was making unconventional use of a hairbrush handle in the depths of regions down south.  As incredible as this might sound Jeanie was not the sort of person to make things up.  I had no doubt that it was raw truth.  Nobody in the group was making a move to one-up Jeanie’s story so I pressed her a little for an experience that might have involved the opposite gender.

She related that a car had passed her and then settled in front of her.  The car’s speed was inconsistent but, when it slowed, it wasn’t quite enough for her to pass it.  She was becoming a little annoyed when the car moved to the left lane dropped in alongside of her cab.  Naturally curious, especially with the driver’s erratic driving behavior, Jeannie looked down.  

Several years had passed since this had happened.  Still, telling the story to us, she hesitated as her mouth went wide in the awe and disbelief that was still with her.  Jeanie looked down to see a soldier at rigid attention and getting serious rub.  

She woke her husband, who was also her co-driver, to witness this with her.  As quiet and reserved as Jeanie was, this was just too incredible not to share with her husband.  A soldier at full attention was one thing but Jeanie had never in her life imagined that one could stand so tall.

Never in my years of driving did I ever have an experience that could one-up either of Jeanie’s stories.  Sometimes, however, what you don’t see might be more entertaining than what you do see.
I was cruising along an interstate highway in the right lane with a load of diesel fuel in the tanker behind me.  The traffic was very light. 

In the distance ahead of me was a subcompact red car running in the left lane.  This car had my attention because I was gaining on it.  Traveling at a slower speed it should have been in the right lane.  The distance closed and I evaluated that I could safely pass on the right.  Whatever was going on in the car, it was holding steady in the center of the left lane.

I glanced down at the car to see the length of a somewhat large woman from hips to head. She was face down and her body filled the interior of the little car from right door to left door.  The only other thing visible was someone else’s hand on the steering wheel.  I leave readers to their own imagination as to what was happening in this car.

A few miles later I spotted a little red car in my mirror that was approaching fast in the left lane.  As it neared I could make out the faces of a man and a woman both wearing big smiles.  I’ll never know for certain why the car was going slowly and then fast.  Nor, will I know why the two persons wore such glowing smiles when the car passed me.  I do have a guess, though.  I’m fairly certain that just a few minutes before the car passed me both the man and the woman probably had need of a clean hankie.