Tony came by with the truck last night. He bought a new radio for it, and wanted help installing it. There was, of course, and awkward silence when I first saw it, and Tony and I made small conversation while skirting around the issue of the truck. He had parked it under the street light, and it looked like it did in the old days, just damp from a recent rain, with the light glistening off its hood. I had to turn away.

Tony was obviously smitten with it by this point. When I first made the suggestion that he take the truck, he gave me a look of disgust as if I had asked to urinate in his living room. Every one has had this initial reaction when first encountering it. It is rusty and a little stinky from years of cafe mochas and coffees with cream spilling into the passenger side floor, but after a brief stint behind the drivers wheel they become enamored. Tony being no exception.