He slowed and they drove alongside me for a while her still smiling and giving me a little wave before they finally pulled ahead but not away from me. There was a rest area coming up and I signaled and flashed my lights to let them know I was pulling in. We stopped and they parked across from me. I walked toward their car and they got out and started speaking French and I couldn't understand a word and I told them I didn't parleveau (sp.) French. I took it they didn't understand English either but I motioned to my truck thinking they might want to see the inside. I deliver parts to Freightliner dealers and my truck is a pretty much show truck with an extended sleeper and a lot of extras. They nodded yes they would like to see it. We got in and she went right for the sleeper and set down on the bed giving me another big smile and raising her eyebrows bouncing on the bed giving me a come-on. I looked at the husband and he just gave me and up-handed "what am I going to do?" I sat down. She was cranky and ready to take it out on whichever of her peons crossed her today. Lots of the assholes that she left in the dust at work confused sex with love, like she had when she was younger. The fools still comforted themselves with the false sense of belonging it gave them. She always got to the fitness center early; it was only nine in the morning and already she’d done five point five miles on the stationary bike, worked for half an hour on the exercise machines and done another fifteen minutes in the pool. She knew she would have felt better if she could have eaten the four fried eggs and half pound of bacon that her husband ate almost every morning, but life wasn’t fair, not fair at all. She was so tired of Boston. And tired of him now, tired of the way he was gone all the time on business and tired of how he acted when he was home. Almost every man she knew quickly bored her. Even so, unbidden thoughts of the new station manager drifted across her mind. He was.
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