On Tuesday of this week, I started out the day thinking that I had seen my future career. By three in the afternoon, that dream had been left in the dust on the side of the road.
That morning, as I was pulling into town and getting close to the office, I just happened to glance over to my right at the parking lot of a major fast-food franchise. There it was. Possibly one of the most beautiful vehicles I have ever seen. It wasn’t a charcoal gray, convertible 911 Porsche Targa with a new set of Pirellis, but it was possibly the next best thing.
What I saw was an older model, stretch limousine painted to look like a black and white spotted cow. But wait, believe it or not, it gets better. On top of this vehicle, were a running duck (which looked like a penguin), followed by a sprinting pig, followed by a large galloping cow. To enhance the realism of this barnyard scene, there was a white picket fence attached to the trunk. And also, behind the cow, was a large pile of, well … a pile of what cows do best.
Pulled up beside this beautiful automobile, was a truck full of guys taking cellphone pictures. I thought that was something that I should be doing because I had no idea when or if I would ever see this breathtaking sight ever again. However, I was already in the lefthand turn lane, and I soon resigned myself to the fact that this car and I were merely two ships passing in the night. Or, the early morning, in this case.
As I sat there at work that day, I couldn’t get that car out of my mind. I have always had an infatuation with any kind of vehicle that has a large representation of a cartoon animal on top of it. I have always thought it would be awesome to cruise around underneath large fiberglass creatures. As Greg Brady would say, “I’ll bet chicks dig that.”
Speaking of chicks, if you ever have an occasion to visit Rock Falls or Dixon, Illinois, be on the lookout for a car with a huge chicken on it. A fried chicken restaurant uses this exquisite automobile as one of their main forms of advertising. I can’t think of the name of the restaurant right now, so maybe the advertising isn’t all that effective, but man, that car is cool.
As morning turned into afternoon, I kept thinking about how great it would be to drive around that cow limo all day long. You can probably imagine my excitement when one of the reporters hung up her phone and announced that my dream car was on its way to the newspaper office. I was positively giddy.
As the limo pulled up, I exited the building to make sure that I got my photo. The car had a speaker blaring some 1980s party music, and the chauffeur was saying clever, witty things and making “moo” sounds over the PA system. And then something even more magical happened. The cow blew a puffy white cloud of smoke out of its posterior. The flatulent bovine was the cherry on top of the cake. Simply hilarious.
The chauffeur then stepped out of his magnificent chariot to talk to our intrepid reporter. As he stood there, I couldn’t help but wonder if he realized that he possibly had one of the world’s best jobs. I was envious and was wondering if he was possibly hiring.
And then the back door opened.
Out of that auto stumbled seven female former high school classmates who had rented the limo for the day to celebrate the fact that they were all turning 60 years old this year. There they were, dancing and laughing, hootin’ and hollerin’ at a rather high decibel level in front of our place of business.
To me, these ladies looked like nothing but trouble. Loud, ornery trouble. In fact, while the chauffeur was standing there talking to the reporter, one of these women hopped behind the wheel and attempted to commandeer the car. After the vehicle was stopped, and the lady removed from the driver’s seat, she said with a giggle that she wanted to see what it was like to drive a limo just once.
When they were ready to go, and as the exasperated driver pushed the last of his partygoers into the backseat, I started to realize that maybe there is no such thing as the perfect job.
Sure, you might have the privilege of driving around a fancy-schmancy, exotic automobile with a massive fiberglass cow plop on the trunk, but then again, you might have to put up with a 60-year-old customer who uses her boisterously loud friends to act as decoys as she attempts to commit grand theft auto. Isn’t life funny that way?
All that being said, I still want to drive a car with a big chicken on it.
You can contact Wallace at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can follow him on his blog at http://gregwallaceink.blogspot.com.