And so it begins....

Two days ago I began my first day of work. It was mostly paperwork on my part and assessment of the students' English levels. The unexciting yet necessary aspects of a new job/school. The most interesting part of my day however began with a guy, as these stories often do. He's a large, sweet gentleman who gave me quite the wild ride yesterday and today. And his name is Kurt.

Kurt is a 1986 Ford F150 XL, with sky blue coloring and a rough and tumbled look. He's a good truck and my fast friend. (Not that fast as he's a little bit long in the tooth, though he's still younger than me.) Pete let me borrow his truck to get to work until I got the bus pass to let me ride the public transport. Considering my most extensive driving experience has been in a broken down old Honda Civic CRX (Love you Baby!!) Kurt is a whole other beast!

Me and my baby car

First and foremost is getting into the truck. That presents a slight issue for someone who's waist comes up to about the same height as the pedals. With no "oh shit" bar to hand I have to do a little jump and try to propel myself into the cab. Wanting to impress on my first day I decided to wear a cute little skirt... hmmm.. great plan. I managed to find my way to school, getting in and out of the truck without flashing anyone. Once I got myself into the cab I realized sadly that I was too short to reach the pedals comfortably and though I found the lever and tried to adjust the seat, I couldn't and so thinking it was stuck I scooted to the edge of the seat and drove the best I good.

Next was backing the the monster of a car down a long-ass graveled driveway to get to the street. Negotiating that little bit of 'threading the needle' was fun as I worried alternatively about smashing Pete's car, trampling the bushes or the crashing into the shed on the side of the house. But I prevailed through that challenge and celebrated my arrival on the street with a sigh of relief and burst of laughter at the thought of if only my brother or grandpa (big truck enthusiasts themselves) could see me now. This tiny girl in the Big truck.

I started to drive off to school using the handy map Pete drew for me the night before. Focusing on not taking out any of the construction cones or workers on the main road I slowly made my way to school. Throughout the drive I found myself occasionally laughing in a slightly panicked yet amazed manner at my ability to actually drive the biggest car I've encountered before. Arriving at school I put Kurt into park and pushed as hard as I could on the emergency break. Then I kind of shook myself off and went to get a latte at the Starbucks gloriously close to my school to shake of the bit of nerves I'd worked up during the drive.

After my first day at work - spent filling out forms and assessing the students - it was time to get back in the big boy and go home. At this point in time I was not aware that the truck had a name at all, so I decided to call it something in order to be less afraid of driving him. (As we all know, you'll be less afraid of something when you know it's name.)



So on the ride home I called him Sammie and talked soothingly to him, telling him to go easy on me as it was my first time driving something so big. Well that must have worked because I didn't demolish any mailboxes or fences or run over any children. When I got home again I just chuckled to myself and thanked Sammie for the wild ride. It was later that day when I asked Pete if the truck and been named already and thus discovered his true identity of Kurt.

The next day I went out to Kurt again for round 2. This time I wasn't as frightened and took the bull (or ford rather) by the horns. Now he and I have a good working relationship and I only sometimes still chuckle of the sight of me driving this big ol' working vehicle. Perhaps its not as funny to anyone else, but he's a picture of me and my new best friend.....

Me and Kurt