Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Here's Why We're Fn' Cool


This is Kendra Tuthil, Managing Frickin' Editor of OS. Kendra just took a job rolling around the country in a big rig. If the life of a writer is made up of adventures then Kendra is gonna have enough for another 8 or so novels. Rock it Kendra. We love you at Our Stories--you bad ass trucker.

2 comments:

JenKnox said...

Way to work that CDL license!
Remember to get your eggs scrambled at the T&As in the Midwest.
Give me a shout if you find your bad-ass self driving south in the lone star state.

DKH/Kendra Tuthill said...

Hello, OS! Thanks for making trucking look cool. Texas, yes. Everywhere, yes. I am all over this place, on I-80 when they close the highway down and you have to sleep in the driver's seat in a long snaking line of trucks, all with their hazards on, looking like Christmas in that snow. And out here, in Oklahoma where a buck jumps in front of the truck and you've been told not to swerve for anything but humans and you get so damned close to it, you see all those muscles clench and release in the headlights, in a deer leap. And out here, here this time is Denver, where in the city, in one field you get prarie dogs and rabbits, a squirrel the size of a rat, and black, that climbs up the flat surface of a cement building and then you find yourself down the embankment, adjusting the sunglasses that have jumped to the end of your nose and there it is, a fucking black panther, slick, muscular, mean. And when you stop terrified of those muffin-sized paws, you realize that it's an illusion, that the panther is in fact farther away than you thought and it is not so big afterall. It's just a cat. The other day at a dock, I could not sleep. I got out of bed, put on my boots and, next to my truck was another truck and in that truck was my lover. He hadn't talked to me all day cause he caught me drinking with this man in Michigan. And here we were, the two of us, two little points of consciousness on a big planet, knocked into each other again. I got out of my truck and hid my face as I walked past the front of his. He had his head against the window. I could see his hair. We hadn't seen each other for two months andonly knew each other for three. I knocked on the window. He turned around slowly. "What's up asshole?" I said. He took off some headphones and got out so slowly it was like he thought he'd lose his grip on the truck if he rushed it. He didn't say anything but, "wow. wow." I said, "So, you want to fight?" and he laughed. Said we could do that later.