Chapter 16: Twister

The weather in southern Alabama was mild in comparison to other parts of the country. Winters rarely see more than an occasional flurry of snow and summers are hot enough to make your eyeballs sweat. This was partially the reason I settled here. I never truly called any place home, but when I found myself separated from the Corps with a shattered back that did not agree with the cold, I cast a wide net with only a few select criteria. It had to be warm and cheap. Now ... I still preferred the warm.

The first thing on my list of extravagant ‘me’ purchases, was a new truck. I walked into the biggest dealership in town, like I owned the place, and asked to be assigned the newest salesman they had. His name was Drew and he looked like he had just graduated high school. He hadn’t even been given a desk yet and had to borrow a cubicle from another member of the sales team, who was not there today. He took a while to get his shit together and I enjoyed watching the faces of the others as they regarded him with disdain and me with open contempt. ‘Well fuck them,’ I thought as he busied himself logging into the workstation. After several attempts, he had to call a senior member to help him. To assuage his embarrassment, I shrugged it off good-naturedly and asked where the head was.

When I returned, I handed him an energy drink from the vending machine and set my cup of coffee on the desk. After he was logged in, the stuffy senior hung around to get a feel for my potential. I certainly didn’t look impressive in my knee-stained Carhartt’s and well-worn Army surplus field jacket, sans liner. The only notable accessory I flaunted was my 3-tone desert cover, minus the rank insignia. I carried a medium-sized Jansport backpack with me everywhere I went, that contained my laptop plus a few other odds and ends.

“You serve?” the senior poppycock asked.

I regarded him with an unflattering stare that made him shift awkwardly. “Yeah, I served.” He sure as hell never did, or he wouldn’t have needed to ask such a dumb-ass question.

“My uncle served way back,” he offered.

“Good on him,” I replied, tired of the discussion, “you can go now.” I dismissed him casually and watched as he turned red and left. I could tell this caused some stress in Junior so I tried to put him at ease. “How long have you worked here Drew?”

He thanked me for the energy drink and sucked back half of it in one slug. “Um, a couple of months now,” he replied honestly, “this is my first day on the sales floor.”

“Ever sold a vehicle yet?”

He shook his head. “No sir, I detailed the new arrivals for a few months before they let me train for sales.”

“Well cheer up son,” I said with a grin, “This morning you’re gonna make your first sale.”

He blinked at me and nodded uncertainly. “Okay, um ... what did you have in mind ... uh, sir?”

I stuck my hand out. “Call me Alex,” I smiled, “I want a truck. What is the nicest rig you have here?”

He gaped at me uncertainly and then cleared his throat as he turned to the computer display. “Well, we are primarily a Nissan dealership so you’d be looking at the Titan XD, which is a really badass truck,” he said with no small amount of envy in his voice.

I nodded encouragingly. “Like kind of badass or really fucking badass?” I asked with an eager grin.

He looked around and leaned forward. “That fucker parked in the showroom right behind you is as badass as they get.”

I turned in my seat and noticed the bright red truck for the first time. I had walked right past it and hadn’t even noticed. Now I could see that it was quite badass indeed. “Let’s go check it out,” I said getting up.

He jumped to his feet and led the way to the showpiece. It was a huge truck with extra-large tires, a full 8-foot bed plus an extended cab. I followed him around and let him tell me about all the features that he knew by heart; 400 hp DOHC diesel engine, 22-inch Venom Ragnorak tires, moon roof (Gunner and Libby would appreciate that), premium leather seats with heating and cooling features, etc. I was one of the first customers so we garnered a lot of attention as we walked around the vehicle.

“These tires are totally sick dude!” he stated confidently, “One guy bought them last summer and they got stolen right off his truck in Mobile.”

“That’s pretty sick,” I agreed. I tried the driver’s door but it was locked. “Where’s the key?”

He looked crestfallen. “Oh, the owner has it in his office, we aren’t allowed to let people inside it.”

I looked back at him. “So, it’s not for sale?”

He nodded nervously. “Oh, it is. It’s just that they don’t want people to touch anything inside.” He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Then how do I test drive it?” I asked persistently. My voice was carrying and I could see several faces looking at us as we spoke.

“Yeah, we can’t take this one out of the showroom,” he lamented, “I can let you test drive one of the trucks on the lot though.”

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms. “Are the trucks out there the same as this one?”

He shrugged and grimaced, “I mean, they are close enough to give you an idea of the driving characteristics.”

“And if I was interested in any of the vehicles out there, I would be able to test drive it, correct?”

He nodded. “Yessir that is true.”

“But I am interested in this one yet I can’t test drive it.” I got the sense that this was amusing to several of the other employees in the salesroom.

“I’m sorry sir, that is the owner’s policy.”

“Well let’s go talk to the man,” I said firmly.

“I’m ... sorry, sir?” he balked.

“Come on Drew, chop chop! Get the owner out here so we can discuss this,” I said louder and with just a little less pleasantness in my tone, even though I was still smiling. In a lower voice, I murmured to him, “Come on Son, grow a pair! You got a fat commission riding on this.” I gripped his shoulder firmly. “Eye on the prize Marine!”

“Um ... okay,” he said hesitantly and turned to walk around the truck.

“Oh, and Drew?” He looked back at me, “Tell him I’ll be paying cash and expect to drive it out of here this morning.” I could see the shocked expression on his face as he nodded, swallowed, and continued around the truck.

As soon as he left, a tall older guy with thin sandy red hair and a bushy moustache stepped up to me, wiping his hands together. “Good morning, sir, I’m Don, you can call me Donny, perhaps Drew wasn’t the best choice for your personalized sales experience. Maybe I can offer you a...”

“Drew is doing just fine Donny,” I interrupted without even looking at him. I had my phone out and I was texting Wanda to see if I could purchase a vehicle using my new card.

“Indeed, he’s a fine young man!” he persisted, “However, he is just beginning his career as a sales specialist and still has much to learn.”

“So y’all just throw him to the wolves and wish him the best of luck, eh? Pretty interesting training program, you got there,” I muttered staring at my screen.

“Well, it is a bit of a cut-throat business...”

“Go fuck off Donny!” I replied cutting him off again. When I looked up, he was gone.

I glanced over to see an elderly woman who had been sitting behind the Sales desk when I entered, approaching me cautiously. I gazed at her expectantly and she gave me a stressed smile.

“Hello, sir. I am Eileen. If you are interested in test driving any of our vehicles, we have to make a copy of your driver’s license, for insurance purposes,” she said hesitantly.

“Of course,” I replied casually and pulled out my wallet. I dug out the ID card and handed it to her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, “this will just take a minute.” She looked carefully at the card before glancing back at me. There was no trace of recognition in her eyes as she turned to step back behind her desk.

My phone dinged and Wanda assured me that as soon as they ran my card there would be no doubt to my credit. When we returned from Argentina, she presented us both with new cards that were opal-colored and featured an iridescent logo for Equinox Global Premium, the wealth management group that she represented — based out of Atlanta.

It was oddly quiet around the show room and Eileen’s heels clicked loudly on the linoleum floor as she came back over and returned my card. “Thank you, Mr. Bishop,” she said warmly, “Can I get you anything else while you wait?”

I looked at my empty Styrofoam cup and handed it to her. “A refill would be nice,” I replied casually.

“Certainly,” she took it and disappeared around the truck. The coffee maker was in the other direction but I didn’t remark on it. There must’ve been a serious powwow going on in the Owner’s Office.

She returned with a steaming cup of black coffee in a ceramic mug with the dealership logo on it. Her bearing was slightly timid as she handed me the cup and smiled. “It will just be another few moments, sir,” she said before returning to her desk.

Several minutes later I heard footsteps approaching and Drew reappeared followed by a sharply dressed man in his mid-40s. He was vertically challenged, standing about five feet and change, and tried to compensate for it with thick heeled loafers. His dark black hair was styled to cover his receding hairline. His body was trim and appeared fit beneath the cut of his pinstripe suit, and his disjointed nose stood out like a lantern. It dawned on me that this was the man who appeared on the giant billboard advertising the Prescott Nissan Auto Group. His image was larger than life (apparently) and he wore boxing gloves in a fighting stance that assured everyone of his ‘knockout’ prices.

He strode confidently around ‘my’ truck and smiled a toothy smile at me as he led my young salesman back onto the floor. He held his arms wide as he approached and then reached forward to shake my hand. “Mr. Bishop!” he greeted loudly. “It is an honor to meet you, sir.” His grip was firm but not so much to make me wince. “I am Jeffrey Prescott, Owner and General Manager of the largest dealership in the County.”

“Morning. Alex,” I replied neutrally. Drew stood behind him with his fingers laced together before him. He looked crestfallen and deflated.

“I am sure I have heard your name before, but It escapes me...” Jeff stated with a pause. He rubbed his chin as he studied my face and tried to remember. I grunted non-committal and slipped my bag off my shoulder, pulling a copy of my book from within. I handed it to him and the lights went on instantly. His smile became even brighter with more teeth. “Of course!” he exclaimed. It sounded like he had just discovered oil in his backyard... ‘Eureka!’ He made no indication that he was planning on returning the book so I pointed toward Drew and he grudgingly handed it to the young man.

“So, I understand that you are interested in this fine machine,” he said as he swept his hand across the front fender and then buffed an invisible blemish with his sleeve.

“Drew pretty much sold me on it already,” I replied matter-of-factly. “I will be buying it as soon as you get around to opening those doors over yonder and let me take it out for a test spin.”

He had a look that suggested he wanted to argue the point but couldn’t get any traction. “Um ... yes,” he stammered as he recovered his poise. He stepped over to place a friendly hand on my arm and steered me towards his office. “We can arrange for that. In the meantime, why don’t we head on back to my office so we can...”

“Now Jeffrey,” I interrupted with a teasing voice, “you wouldn’t be trying to take Drew’s first sale from him, would you? I don’t see why we can’t complete this sale at his ‘borrowed’ workstation.” At the same time, I smoothly slipped out of his reach and winked at the younger man who gaped at me and handed the book back. “C’mon Drew. Let’s go sit while Jeffrey pulls my new truck out onto the lot. I’ll sign your book while we wait.” I led him along, leaving the owner and general manager standing there looking after us in disbelief.

It took half an hour to rearrange the showroom and get my truck out. After that, we were cruising down the road towards the highway. I handed my opal card to Eileen before we left, to begin the sales paperwork. Jeff insisted on accompanying us, so I nodded and jerked my thumb toward the backseat. His face darkened as he climbed in and buckled up. It was time to shit in his easter basket, so I took the exit for the joint National Guard and Army Reserve Center. I pulled up to the gate and handed the guard my blue card. “Morning soldier,” I greeted.

He scanned the back with his reader gun and handed it back. “Good morning, Gunny! Semper Fi!”

“OohRah, I’m gonna take this over to the tactical training ground if that’s okay.”

He nodded and whistled at the badass truck I was in. “No problem, Gunny. The place has been a ghost town since the unit deployed. Have fun.”

The main grinder was over an acre of empty asphalt and I pulled up to the entrance and halted. “Drop yer cocks and grab yer socks!” I bellowed and stomped down on the accelerator. Instead of launching onto the lot my tires broke free and began squealing and smoking as we slowly accelerated and began flying across the hard top.

“Hey...” Jeffrey screamed as he was pushed back into his seat. “Take it easy! Okay, sir?”

“Ah relax Jeff,” I laughed, “I’m a professional. What’s the point of 400 horses if you can’t take ‘em all out once in a while?” I turned the wheel sharply to the left and sent us into a wide drift before using the paddle shifters to downshift and accelerate into a 90-degree slide. I whooped delightedly as it responded precisely to my commands. I slugged Drew in the arm as I casually entered the cone course, navigating it perfectly with one hand. We whipped side to side and made several sliding turns until I shot us out the other side.

“Check this out Drew,” I yelled over the engine. “I call this my signature ‘Fuck you, Tango!’ maneuver.” I slammed the accelerator and we shot forward towards a tall air traffic control tower. I could tell that my passengers were beyond terrified as I waited til the last second before rapidly downshifting and whipping the red truck into a controlled spin. When I reached 180 degrees I upshifted and sent us straight back the way we came from. I fishtailed a few times to simulate engaging my targets in a wild game of chicken. I circumnavigated the cone course and returned to the base gate and on towards the dealership. “I like it!” I grinned punching my pale young passenger in the arm once more. “You were right Drew; this is one badass fucking truck.”

When we got out Jeff remained behind for a minute, hanging on to the door handle like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Drew didn’t look much better but at least he was ambulating. When we got back to his desk I signed his book, ‘Drew — Semper Fi young man! Many thanks for helping me land a badass fucking truck. You’re a hard charger and a credit to your peers at Prescott Motors. Keep your eye on the prize! OohRah! – Gunny Bishop’.

One of my prouder moments would come almost a year later, at Parris Island, when I would stand in the bleachers alongside his parents and siblings observing his pass and review ceremony in his sharp crisp dress blues.

It was afternoon by the time I got to drive my shiny new badass truck away from the dealership. It was lunchtime but I was hardly finished with my first day of ‘shopping’. I grabbed a bag of plain cheeseburgers at Rotten Ronnies and headed for the Outdoor Motor Sports dealership on the other side of town. I had my eye on a Yamaha 4-wheel ATV for some time and several hours later I was headed home with one strapped onto a small utility trailer that I also purchased. I couldn’t resist stepping over to the watersports area and admiring the Yamaha three-person wave runners. We were gonna have some serious fun next summer.

On the way back I listened quietly to the news and perked up when I heard an announcement for severe weather conditions the following day. A low-pressure system was approaching the coast from the gulf and it was expected to collide with the high-pressure system that we were currently enjoying in our area.