The road through the state of Utah was long and dry with nothing to see. Just a vast, open land of snow mixed with salt covered hills . There was so much damn salt here that breathing the air left a salty taste in one's mouth. It also seems to be the number one state for sudden semi truck engine faults, break downs, and chapped lips. It's dry. But for Jay, no matter where he was driving and no matter what conditions it be, he always found a way to remain jolly and upbeat, and his truck always seemed to tough through any challenge that bethrothed them on the road. Since getting on the truck, Andrew has since discovered - unfortunately - that when Jay is really bored, he sings along loudly to his favorite tunes.
"And I knooooooowwww my hat is missing'....and my boots, are gettin oooold!" Jay howls, taking his whole head off the road to howl the lyrics in Andrew's face, damn near swerving into the oncoming lane. Andrew had to look out the passenger side window because the windshield was so dirty you could barely see out of it. Dirt, salt, gunk, bug splatter, and all kinds of shit, but Jay seemed to do just fine clearing a narrow viewport through it all with the occasional swipe of the wipers.
"Hey, Jay, you think it's about time we clean that windshield?" Andrew asks, and just as he did a huge bug crashes into the windshield, scaring the shit out of him.
"Oh yeah, it should rain here soon. That'll get it clean enough." Jay replies, taking a sip from his trucker jug. "It'll be good as new...almost."
A crow smashes into the windshield next, staring at Andrew with wide, surprised eyes. Shortly after that, what looked like a small, bird sized person smacks into it as well.
"Dang it...", Jay swipes the windshield clear once more and sips from trucker jug. The song playing was Jay's favorite song and it was now over, thankfully. Now the voice of the radio host bled through the speakers.
"And that was 'Trucking Through Texas' by The Skid Plates." The radio host says, "That song was recorded way back in 1979 but didn't hit airwaves until..."
Jay dialed the volume down after having been reminded of something.
"Hey, you believe in Bigfoot?", Jay asks.
"I guess", Andrew replies, "I'm more of a see it to believe it kind of guy. Not saying I don't believe in the possibility though."
"He's real. I wrestled em." Jay says.
"Yeah right."
"I did, really. Of course, nobody believes me." Jay begins to explain what happened, taking Andrew mentally back to 1979 Oregon...
"I was at a black cloud truck stop, I had just finished my shower and was walking back to ma truck. When I got to it, there was this big, tall, hairy motherfucker standing at the passenger door of the truck next to me. I thought he was just a trucker trying to get into his truck until I got a closer look at him. He turned around and stared at me with eyes deep in their sockets, and we stare at each other for a long while before he finally says in a deep, growling voice..."
"Whatchu lookin at, bitch?", says the hairy, man like creature standing at least three heads taller than a young, twenty something year old Jay.
"I'm lookin at some big, ugly, hairy jerk tryna get into someones truck, it looks like." Jay replies.
"Hey, lady truckers ain't easy to come by, almost thought they were myth." The Bigfoot says, "but there's a big, trucking lady in there and I want that now. Imma git some of that, you hear me?"
"There's no such thing as lady truckers, and according to myth, they're all fat, stinky and hairy." Jay says.
"Just how I like em!" the Bigfoot says, "Now hit the road, I got a lady trucker to catch, or do I need to stomp you out first?"
"Stomp me out?" Jay says appalled and offended, "Listen here you Bigfoot, no ones ever stomped me out!"
"First of all, I'm Footbig, not Bigfoot. I was born specifically to stomp!"
Just then, someone pokes their face out through the curtains of the truck that Footbig was trying to get into. The unidentified face yelled and in a matter of seconds, the truck was started and was taking off, speeding out of the truck stop.
"Noooo! I almost had me a lady trucker! You motherfucker! Now you're gonna git it!" Footbig roars and stomps toward Jay with furious rage.
"And that's how it happened." Jay says sipping from his trucker jug, "We wrestled right there in the truck stop."
"Well who won?" Andrew asks.
"It's debatable. He got some moves on me but only because his hair was drenched in greasy sweat, I couldn't get a good hold on em. Plus he smelled like the worst shit I ever smelled. Goddamn that motherfucker stunk. But boy do I look forward to the day I get a rematch."
"Damn, I hope I get to see it." Andrew says.
"Since we got all these smart phones and them cameras, that'll be the day the whole world see's it..." Jay says, taking a sip from his jug as a giant bug smashed into the windshield once again.