Sometimes (not so) subtle responses to my truck...

Young white southern girls with long, flouncy hair, scowling with their lower lips pucker out, poking out trying to give me dirty looks.

Then the middle aged angry white men flipping me off – I tell you thank the goddesses for Black people who give me the majority of positives, altho I get few friendly waves going through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama from white folks.

White boys that go to pass me, then slam on their brakes, and go back behind me to re-read what they thought they read, or maybe continue reading as they hover behind me, then zoom suddenly past me as they stare stonily ahead.

Or sometimes giving me a ‘fuck you’.

Then occasionally the strate white couple that holds their camera up and it looks like they’re filming everything; or the single driver that is snapping pictures and driving at the same time wavering from lane to lane.

Or the revved up cars that cut over too swiftly almost grazing my front bumper and take their life in their hands, as if I don’t have the bigger truck.

Or the bigger trucks that try to crowd me out. Or the bigger trucks at night that turn their lights on inside the cab so I can see them giving me the thumbs up, the big smile or giving me the angriest “fuck you”.

Sometimes they’re so angry I can actually see the spittle flying and smell their bad breath, their tobacco and cheeto laden exhalations. And I frown fiercely, spreading my hands out and go “what, what in the world is the matter with you?”

Or the ones that calmly give me the finger and I flash them, just as calmly, the peace symbol or the love symbol, or the peace symbol morphing into the love symbol. I think they probably recognize the peace symbol but I don’t know about the love symbol.

Or the young white couple, that neither look old enuff to drive, passing me with wide grins and two simultaneous thumbs up in concert with each other.

Or another couple, both with long dread locks, with fists plunged up into the air, smiling triumphantly. And the elderly Black couple, with matching glasses dressed as if they’re going off to church, which they probably are as it’s Sunday, both deep smiles and waving at the same time, mirroring each other.

The semi-truck drivers who prolong the flash of their ‘thank you’ lights after I give them the universal blinking of my lights, letting them know it’s safe to get over in front of me into the right lane – and the ones that don’t flash their lights indicating the absence of approval.

Then there’s the ones that simply flash at me after passing me, whether I’ve given them the safe-to-move-over signal or not.