Men in Trucks

Our hotel/restaurant/retail economy has become a men-in-trucks economy, 1 man or 2 men or 5 men in Dodge Rams, old Toyotas and Nissans, dump trucks, Ford F250s and F350s or F450s with massive trailers all garbage hauling, house gutting, tree removing, rewiring, fumigating, inspecting, roofing, reconnecting gas and cable and electricity, everything. They were a novelty until I had to drive with them—too fast then too slow, vague and contradictory turn signals if any at all, near sideswipes, speeding around me to cut me off or crowd me out of the lane on their way to the next job or to wait in line with the other men in trucks at Wendy’s, Popeye’s, Subway, McDonald’s or to Baton Rouge or the French Quarter running on men in trucks’ $5, $10 and $20 bills. They run red lights and stop signs and turn in front of you like you're not there. They have no use for civil society. I'm glad they're here--a nice pair of them gutted my mama's house--but I can't wait 'til they're fucking gone.


tag: New Orleans, post-Katrina