#120: An Open Letter to Dudes in Trucks

An open letter from a part time pedestrian, on a rainy day, to Dudes in Trucks, with their giant wheels, and their immense insecurity about life;

so very immense

Dear Dudes,

Here we are again.  In the summer I reached out to you to let you know my feelings about your demographic.   Now, obviously, #notalldudesintrucks, but a huge percentage of the catcalls, yells, and general douchey behavior I got while out walking in the warm months came from you guys.  Now that it’s fall, I find we gotta have another chat about your need to take up as much social real estate as possible.

Now, I know that your truck means a lot to you.  You get to climb into that big ol’ cab set up on those big ass wheels and look down on the people around you, in their tiny, fuel efficient vehicles or—more embarrassing still—moved by nothing but their own two legs.  I get that this gives you a warm feeling somewhere in your nether regions.  I’m not trying to take that feeling from you.

But Dudes—my dudes—we gotta talk about the rain.  

Today, for the first time, I learned just how far those giant wheels sling the rainwater they scoop up from the road puddles in their deep, chasm like tire treads.  I learned this not by academic study, but by walking innocently down the sidewalk.  One member of your brotherhood passed me by, and lo and behold, I was wet from the knee down.  

Sort of dirty, too.  

Now, I can enjoy being wet and dirty as much as the next person, but I tend to prefer it to be at a time of my own choosing, not when I’m headed to the train to go to work.

I realize that asking you to drive a more reasonably sized car—for the sake of the environment, if nothing else—would be an infringement upon your right to do as much damage to the planet as you possibly can in your short span upon it.  And I realize that asking you to give up your monstrous tires in the name of “why the fuck does anyone need tires that big unless they are hauling produce across the country in an 18 wheeler?” would similarly be insupportable, since you need them for the aforementioned warm feeling in your nether regions.

But for fuck’s sake, can you at least slow down when it’s wet out, and you’re driving past pedestrians?

Sincerely, 

The woman on the train with very wet legs.