Originally Posted by Bruiser

Halfway through my stay at the company, I was working 7 days a week. 5 days on my normal route in Murfreesboro and the weekend sweeping in Clarksville. Now, for those of you not familiar with the geography, Murfreesoboro is in the exact center of TN where as Clarksville is on the TN/KY border. I had finished my Friday night in Clarksville and was cruising down I-24 when i get a call from Mike.

M - Hey, where are you at?

B - I'm about 20 outside Nashville, you?

M - I'm just wrapping up here in Green Hills (Nashville 'burb).

B - Cool, you want to meet up?

M - Actually, I'm so fast I'll probably beat you back to Murfreesboro AND have time to gently caress your girlfriend.

B - That fast, eh?

M - That fast.

B - Well, perk up your ears, old man. I want you to hear this. Never. Not in this lifetime or the next will you ever beat me in a race. Not tonight. Not ever.

M - Oh, we'll see. Give me a call before you reach the Trinity Ln. Exit. I'll be waiting.

B - See you there.

Now, Mike and I are pretty close. We tended to hang out after work during the week drinking beer and playing Need for Speed: Most Wanted until noon. By the way, getting drunk at 9am is awesome. But I digress.

I radio in that I'm about to pass the exit, and the race is on.

I pass his truck at 80 and he quickly catches up. My side mirrors are filled with his headlights as we fly down I-24 at 4 in the morning. He passes me and I drop the hammer. Tucking in behind his truck, I start drafting him at 97 miles an hour.

The entire truck is shaking. For a brief instant I think that this rat-trap piece of poo poo is going to fall apart around me. A demon is trying to escape from the hood. I can't imagine what two sweeper vac trucks traveling at speeds close to 100 miles an hour, inches apart from each other looks like*.

I see the sign for our exit; 3/4 of a mile. I sling shot around Mike and take a glance at the speedometer. There I can't see the needle and the rear end end is poking toward "5". I finally pass him and rocket up the on ramp. Our office isn't too far off the interstate and I do a good job of blocking until I get to the shop. Needless to say, I won.

Well, We pull in and hop out.

B - Hah! What the gently caress did I say!

M - Um.. Bruiser?

B - You see that poo poo?! I had the needle buried into the dash. I'm awesome!

M - Bruiser?

B - think you need to buy the beer today, because that poo poo was outta sight!

M - BRUISER!

B - WHAT?!

M - Look at the rear end end of your truck.

I walk around and take a look. The rear axle at the wheel hubs was smoking. I did the mental connect the dots.

B - Was I on...

M - Fire? Yeah. You were. I tried to tell you, but you didn't hear me.

B - Did it look cool?

M - ...

B - I bet it did.

M - Are you kidding me? It was like the sweeper truck from hell! It was loving fantastic!

B - I knew it.

And that was the end of the story. Or at least I thought it was until Bryce called me.

BC - Hey Bruise

B - Bryceman!

BC - Yeah.. uh, hi. Listen, I just got a call from a trooper friend of mine talking about a pair of sweeper trucks doing about a buck-oh-five down 24. You know anything about that?

B - NOOOOOOOoooooo, are you serious? These things? They hardly do 80

BC - Riiiiiiight, well just look for the smoking truck, apparently the guy was burning his axles and looked all seven flavors of hell coming down the highway.

Originally Posted by Spoolin

I read the whole thing while hiding in a spare room at work. Some of the things he said made me laugh so hard I got spotted by a few people. I really respect him though for the **** he went through, wish him all the best. God that ****** can write good stories!