Chapter 12
Baptism by Fire
It was late July when we first realized we had major alternator problems on our truck. Dallas and I were under an airfreight load out of Denver when the lights started growing dim on the truck. The electrical gauges were showing major problems and Dallas quickly deduced that the truck was now running entirely off the batteries.
We were bound for Columbus Ohio but we made it only as far as Monrovia, Indiana before the truck finally shut down entirely. Stranded in a small truckstop in the middle of a humid heat wave Dallas and I struggled to sleep in the truck without the aid any air conditioning. About dawn he finally gave up and began checking out which mechanics might be working on Sunday.
I rubbed my eyes convinced that I was either dreaming, dead, or severely affected by the heat. Looking again I had to accept that the truck was still there and that in addition to the warning there was also a bumper sticker running across the bottom of the door that said "Hate is not a family value". Up in the wing window there was a pride flag sticker just as there was in our truck. I just knew that this truck was driven by a lesbian. I couldn't have been more off track.
After pulling my clothes on, I set out across the truckstop parking lot to find Dallas. It didn't take long. He was standing next to a heavy set man who was wearing a t-shirt which said "I'm not Gay but My boyfriend is". They were laughing and telling stories and as I approached they both kidded me about sleeping through the coming millennium. I was introduced to the man standing across from me with the subtle T-shirt as the owner of the Freightliner that was parked next us.
After a minute Dallas suggested that we all go inside and get a late breakfast which sounded great to me. Anyplace with some cool air would be better than the heat and humidity outside. Upon walking into the restaurant we received some looks but for the most part no one paid any attention to us. That is until our new found companion began to talk quit loudly about being asked not to ever come back to his Missouri home town because of his sexual preference. This got the attention of the tables closest to us. His tales of his stint in the military captured the rest of the restaurants attention.
I squirmed and felt uncomfortable taking turns beating myself up for being ashamed of the conversation and proud that this man could be so out and unabashedly gay. After several looks of shock and contempt directed at our table from the other waitresses and customers alike, we got up to pay our check and see if our trucks were finally ready. As we approached the cashier a whole van full of Southern Baptists met us at the entrance to the restaurant. They were just out of Sunday services and our new friend was just out period.
One lady parishioner who bore a strange resemblance to the Church Lady took one look at his 'I'm not gay but my boyfriend is' T-shirt and I thought that she might pass out from the force of her gasp. I couldn't get out of that place soon enough while our new friend seemed to be oblivious to the stir he was making everywhere he walked. I'm sure we were prayed for by several and cussed to be Yankee Democrats by the rest.
Eventually our truck was fixed well enough to make it down to Indy for a new alternator. But I can't help remembering "Aids Kills" as one truck and operator that certainly made a mockery out of our miniscule pride flag. And who caused both Dallas and I to reconsider just how "Out" we are.
In comparison to this man I would have to say:
Not very. |