I love 'em. There's just something about a girl who drives a pickup truck. She has attitude. She has a swagger--some bigger than others. In a former life, she probably rode bulls and in this life probably rides figurative bulls.
A girl who drives a truck gets looked at. Some people are thinking, "What the hell?' and others are thinking, "Wow." Some are thinking, "what a weirdo," and some are thinking, "holy hell, she's doable." Some avoid girls who drive trucks and some go out seeking them.
Whatever the case, girls who drive trucks get noticed.
I drive a truck. It's a truck that suits me and represents me. She's bossy and comes down the road sprinkling attitude everywhere she goes. She has blemishes and externally looks like hell chewed her up and spit her out but she is a monster workhorse when it counts. So do I.
I have attitude when I drive her. I feel strong. I notice people noticing and just don't give a shit. I drive a truck. I drive that truck for a reason, because THAT truck doesn't look like any other truck on the road. Because THAT truck gets cranky when I get cranky and gets quiet when I get quiet. Because THAT truck will pull and push and drag and carry and haul and work when I need her to work. So do I.
I love my truck. I love that there are other people who love that I drive that truck. I love that there are other people who love me because I drive that truck. I love that there are other people who understand me either because I drive that truck or in spite of it. I love that I don't really care what other people think about me driving that truck.
I'm a girl who drives a truck. Cope.
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