Some of you have never heard my Ryder Truck story. Some of you have but it's been awhile. 100% of this is true. Names and identities have NOT been changed or protected. It's kind of long. But with the correct pacing I think you'll enjoy.
In the fall of 2001 my friend Nate left our hometown in Ohio to make a career as a salesman in Boston. It was a Saturday morning, wet and cold, when Nate called me from 30 miles outside the city. He wouldn't accept my offer to call back when he got closer. I stayed on the line and helped guide him to a gas station about four blocks from my apartment where he pleaded, “Come and get me Wise. I don’t want to drive anymore.” The stress of navigating a Ryder Truck for over 12 hours finally broke him.
I complied and ran over to the station. I gave him a calming man-hug and jumped into the driver seat. We drove ten blocks to the realtor to pick up his keys, then back to my apartment to pick up my roommates, Tyler and Elliott. They were the muscle needed to move Nate into his new digs. Please note that I did not say “the brains” needed to move Nate in. This will be important in the paragraphs to come.
The big yellow Ryder truck had enough room for two in the front so the two ogres jumped in the back with Nate’s traveling circus gear. They had a couch to sit on a television they could pretend to watch. We were only going about 20 blocks so at worst a lamp or futon frame could fall on them.
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I threw the sliding door shut and off we went to Nate’s new homestead. Conversation had quickly proved impossible because of the vibrating windows and cars honking at my novice Ryder skills. After a few blocks the two Trojans in the back of our yellow horse started making their presence known. For them, the logical joke was to pretend that they were getting kidnapped. So naturally, they began pounding on the sides of the truck with their. Then, like true actors they improvised a little more by yelling, “Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy! Help help help help! Help us! Daddy help us!” They were loud and they played convincing kidnappees. When we went through the very busy intersection at Coolidge Corner it was like they had x-ray vision or perhaps just actor’s intuition because they increased the volume of their yelling and sped up the pace of their pounding. At one point Nate turned to me and asked if we should tell them to stop. “Everyone is staring at us,” he said.
Fast forward five minutes and ten blocks down the road.
Sirens flashed and screamed their urgency as three police cruisers raced towards my rear views. I pulled over to let them by with the rest of traffic. As my right tire went up and off the curb my jaw fell open when I saw the cruisers stop behind me. I looked over to Nate, his eyes as white and shocked as mine, and we both realized the cops didn’t want to get past us, they wanted us.
I watched through my rear view mirror three cop cars move into a perfect V-formation. Attack mode. One squattish cop got out of his car, hand on his gun, and peered sideways into my side mirror. It was like television. The Blue were patiently, methodically sizing-up the perps. The perps were methodically crapping their pants.
I put up my hands towards the mirror to reflect I was unarmed. He approached the window and through his moustache asked if he could take a look in the back of the truck. I of course obliged.
“What's back there?” he asked.
“Two of my buddies sir.”
"Oh yeah? Well we have reports of a kidnapping with a yellow Ryder Truck. You know anything about that smart guy?"
“No sir, it’s just my friends back there.”
"Your buddies? What kind of dumb ass are you? We have 10 cop cars racing around the city after two kidnappers in a Ryder truck. You must be a (expletive) dumb ass. What are you doing? Where are going?”
“We’re in college sir. We’re moving a friend into an apartment in Brookline.”
“What dumb ass college do you go to, and how the hell did your dumb ass get in?"
“We go to school in Ohio, sir.”
He shouted to the other cop now out of his car, hand on pistol, "They're dumb asses from Ohio. They got their buddies in the back."
I sat frozen with fear in the front seat. "Quick-thinking Nate" jumped out to unlock the back, which threw our two slightly peeved officers for a loop. They grabbed their guns and told Nate to freeze. They thought he was running away. Amid yells and more expletives Nate got the back unlocked and slid the door open.
"What the (explative) are you two doing?" The cops asked our two heroes in the back of the truck.
Rehearsed and synchronized Tyler and Elliott said, “We were just messing around sir.”
"You were (expletive)-ing around? What kind of dumb asses are you? You must be the dumbest bastards I've ever seen. Do you realize how bad you scared a whole block of people? Get out of the (expletive)-ing truck!" That ended Tyler and Elliott’s portion of the berating. Back to me.
They yelled at me because I didn't get out of the truck while they opened the back door. They didn’t care that I was holding the steering wheel trying not to cry. Two cops stood on both sides and yelled through the windows for me to “Get out of the truck! Now!” When I got out they both got inches from my face and told me how much of a dumb ass I was. Luckily the one had a moustache to block my face from his flying spittle. I was scared straight. I thought I was going to jail via the backseat of their squad car. Then they told me to, “Get back in the truck and pull over to that road. You’re blocking traffic you moron.”
“Yes sir.” I pulled over and got back out for more yelling.
“We have 10 squad cars chasing you through Boston. With all the terrorist scares how could you be so dumb?” Silence. He continued. “Tell your friends to walk to the apartment. You drive the truck alone. Get the hell out of here.”
Shocked that I was a free man, I listened and got the hell out. As I pulled back onto the street I saw my fellow “dumb asses” high-fiving each other like they just won the Super Bowl. This was frustrating because even though the whole thing was their fault they received less than half of the verbal pummeling I did. I was their scapegoat, their fall guy and how did the thank me? With sidewalk-dancing and shouts of, “That was awesome!”
Driving away I tried to ignore my moronic friends and the stares of what felt like a thousand strangers gathered for the show. The cop's words kept ringing in my ears, “How did a dumb ass like you get into college?” I realized I had no idea, but knew that “kidnapping brainless ogres” wasn’t going on any future resumés or job applications.
