Man Stuff

My husband, Nick, and I just made a 3200 mile trip from New York to LA without a incident. We didn't fight, we didn't bitch at each other, we didn't gorge ourselves in junk food, we didn't pick up a hitchhiker and them murder them, we didn't get into any gambling or dog fighting rings, we didn't get drunk and get matching tattoos of 1985 Madonna on our tits. Nothing. We just drove and talked and learned about each other. My husband learned that when I was 20 I had to testify against an ex boyfriend in court. Interesting! I learned that my husband has a vast, VAST, EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE of truck stops. Which one of those things are weirder, I challenge you! My husband is handsome and educated. Funny and smart. How in Gods name did he come to know so much about trucker culture? He knew that they can shower there at these stops, and that sometimes there are places for them to nap and watch movies. That there are places where other truckers can meet up and mingle. There are trucker mixers. There are signals they send each other. He told me he once spent $50 dollars at a stop and that none of it was on gas, but truck stop stuff. What kind of stuff you ask? Well, magnets and apparel and wipes and beef...Trucker stuff! I'm not saying that the fact that my husband has knowledge of this stuff turns me off or that for a second I question his class, but am I worried that his mid life crisis might involve an 18 wheeler? You bet your sweet caboose on it.