Tired of Screwing - repostSubmitted by RoadSong at 2013-03-30 12:05:42 EDT
Rating: 2.0 on 7 ratings (12 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
The new Jeep took a crap after I left Toad Suck Arkansas, so I had to borrow a truck and trailer when I got to Kentucky. It was a nice big 4X4 red truck with five on the floor.
There was a pony mare that had to go to have her foal under the watchful care of some Amish friends of mine, and a pony stallion to be picked up. I drove 25 miles to pick up a ratty old horse trailer that belonged to a friend of a friend. Alice guided me as I backed up to hitch up the trailer and we had the ball and hitch perfectly aligned when we realized that the trailer hitch was too low. The famous Kentucky wind had blown the trailer backwards and the screwing mechanism had slipped off the block. The trailer had to be raised before it could be hitched up to the truck.
The farmer who owned the trailer showed up, he was a farmer about 85 and still alive. He started cranking on the screw lever to raise the trailer. Soon he started huffing and gasping. He looked at me with a toothless grin and said "I am tired of screwing, you screw a while".
When the screwing was finished, I backed the truck up and screwed the trailer down on the ball. The hitch refused to accept the ball. The geezer looked at me and said "You have to measure your balls".
The ball was too big and had to be changed to a smaller ball. With much wrenching and cussing the switch was made. The trailer was hitched and as I pulled out of the farm, the geezer hollered "The last gal that borrowed that trailer had a flat!". Since there was a spare mounted on the side of the trailer I was not too concerned.
When I picked up the first pony I had a flat in the driveway of the man who had lent me the oh-so- cool red truck. He cheerfully changed the tire, and as I drove away I was thinking the usual crisis that must happen with all trips was over.
We drove the 45 miles to the Amish farm belonging to Merlin who trains my ponies. Unloaded the mare and loaded up the stallion. The Amish still use horses to farm with instead of tractors, and buggies instead of cars.
It was getting late and the raggedy trailer had no tail lights, so I put the pedal to the metal and headed out to drop off the stallion and return the trailer.
Half way back I had to pull over to check a road sign. The roads get weaselly between Crab Orchard and Chicken Bristle, and I did NOT want to take the wrong path. I got out of the truck to ask directions. Alice pointed at the rear tire of the trailer and said "You have lost your rubber!"
The tire had shed all the tread, there was nothing left but frayed steel radial wire. Since I had already used the spare, I just creeped along at 15 MPH. until I got back to the farm. Unloaded the pony and turned him out. It was dark and we were exhausted.
On the way home Alice and I realized that we had such a rough day, we were too tired to go to the Honky Tonk to listen to the music.
We had done too much screwing, measured too many balls, and lost our rubber.