Don't worry, it wasn't my truck.
Oh and by the way, none of them said, "a two-hour drive with someone still jittery from rolling a truck with no other traffic involved? Fuck. Off."
Nah, they all strapped in.
Sparklehorse really let them down, but that's not their fault.
And this story isn't about Sparkehorse. Or about my friends.
Yeah, so that's one of my favourite characters in my life, helping me out whenever I have spare time and want cash.
The Factory Manager, by the way, is not in charge of deliveries to customers.
No worries. But what will I be driving?
...the shitty old one tonne work truck.
I probabky should have asked at this point if I needed to know anything about driving trucks. But fuck it, if the Factory Manager trusts me, then *I* trust me.
And it all works out fine.
"Hey, so, you know how you're alright driving the little truck?"
HE TRUSTS ME SO I TRUST ME.
"I need a few pallets picked up."
"No. From [...ominous music...] all the way down State Highway One in Hamilton."
I'm kinda nervous now. Probably shouldn't have overthought it and changed routes. Ah well. Factory Manager trusts me!
I decide to move a bit to the right. I mean, no-one wants to clip a bit of gravel and lose control of a truck, right?
I try to bring it back left, and the same thing happens in mirror image.
Looking up, I see nothing ahead of me.
A little bit further every time.
I'm crossing the centre line with every swerve. Still nothing ahead of me.
There's not a lot of time to make decisions, what with me totally losing control of a fish-tailing Shitty Old Work Truck, but I click that going through a fence and down a hill would be very bad.
ohmygoditnearlytippedphewbacklevelohmygoditnearlytippedphewbacklevelohmygoditnearlytippedphewbacklevelSHIT THE HILL TO THE RIGHT
So I pull a final, last-ditch tug on the wheel to the left.
Way, way up.
It can slide along a bit, too.
My first thought was, "shit, my glasses just fell off."
This is because I'm dangling from the seat belt. Imagine someone folded in half, suspended in midair, except it's the cab of a truck.
DUMB LUCK strikes again!
So I climb down from my seatbelt and stand on firm ground or door or whatever. I pick up my glasses and look around.
I need to get out of here, and the only way is up.
Here's the really stupid thing: I thought twice about using the gear lever as a foot hold, in case I damaged work's vehicle.
I honestly considered just walking away from the sideways, tipped over truck and popping in on a buddy for a cuppa.
"Oh my god, I saw the whole thing! You just started swerving like crazy! You must have blown a tyre!"
"Um, actually, I was just trying to avoid some gravel."
Then it hits me.
I have to call work and tell them what I did.
And work = dad.
I take a deep breath, and start dialling.
Hey, yeah! It's written on the side of the truck!
I turn around and find myself looking at the bottom of the truck.
Then I call work.
"Hi Reception. Look, I've kind of rolled the Shitty Truck a little bit, so Factory Manager's pallets are going to be late. Do you think I should talk to him about that, or will you put me through to Purchasing so they know to buy a new truck?"
"NO no no no no oh hi Dad..."
Teenage brains are completely useless. Dad was, of course, great.
Are you okay? Where are you? Why the hell are you on that road? Ok, fair enough. Who sent you in the Shitty Old Truck?
I'm sitting on top of a sideways truck with no excuse for why it fell over and starting to feel bad about how my first instinct was to just fuck off for a coffee. So NO. No, I haven't called my mother.
"Ha, I did that, with the top-left corner of my dad's truck. Now, do you still want me to drive you to Auckland tomorrow?"
"Uh, yeah man, Sparklehorse!"
It's also the end of my time on this account. So this is Max the Thread Guy signing off.