Tire Tracks

Denny and Jack had been putting in long hours sling'n mud in the pipeline ditches. After twenty straight they were in for a four-day weekend. They loaded into the old white car that Denny had bought from some innocent family. The car they refered to as "The Shark". They had searched every nook and cranny of that old car, ridding it of roaches or anything incriminating as the plan was to cross the border into the land of cheap beer and girls. The border hounds waved them through easy, Jack was disconcerted that they had left all their stash on the Canadian side. So they hit the first gas station for a trunk load of beers. Up and over the Driving To The Sky highway. They landed in some small American town with more than one hideout to drink. The girls were mostly paired up with cowboys, they wore Wrangler pants and western shirts with sleeves rolled to show their tanned brown cowgirl skin. It was going to be difficult as neither Jack nor Denny resembled cowboy appeal. Well Denny wore western boots with his frayed denim pants, it was more of a seventies look than that of western comparison. Jack just appeared as a drunk not much for looks, but man could that guy string a line. It was working for ol' Jack he had cornered two single girls. He worked to accompany them at their table. Not sure how long it took for those two to out-drink the girls and make asses of themselves, but nevertheless they lost 'em. Off to the next watering hole where they had a rotation of women to drink with, but by closing time it was slim pick'ns. I can say they weren't the slimmest girls those boys left with. Denny had been driving, but he decided the girls should drive out of sheer chivalry. Jack hooked up with the one in the rear seat and Denny was sitting close to the driver, he had his arm around her and a smile on his face. Jack began to go crosseyed as he reached for a feel. Dizzy drunk on cheap beer and overweight girls, Jack passed out. When he awoke the following morning, The Shark had came to rest in a widespread field planted tall with some kind of wheat. Denny was passed out in the front seat with his pants rolled down to his knees. Jacks' first concern was that of the wad of cash they communally had rolled and stashed in the long tongue of an ashtray. "Hey Denny wake up, is the money still there?" Denny pulled the ashtray open to find it empty of the roll of cash, then pulled his pants up. "You stupid fucker, why did you let those girls roll us?" "It's not my fault you stupid drunk!" "Well you let them drive." "What's that got to do with anything?" I think Jack swung first, that's how I got the story, but Denny caught him a good one right above the left eye. It split Jack open to bleed on the red interior of the back seat. "That fucken hurt!" Jack said. Denny sat back in the front seat and lit a smoke. "Turn the car on, I'm fucking cold," Jack said wiping the blood from his eyebrow. Denny reached for the keys to notice they were missing, nowhere to be found. "That's just fucking great," Jack retorted. "Shut up or your other eye will be bleeding," Denny offered. Jack slammed the back door behind him and said, "It was a lucky shot and a cheap one at that." "What was that?" Denny questioned. "I gotta take a piss," Jack walked through the trampled tire tracks that had been left behind from the fat girls getaway vehicle, opened his fly and began to piss when he noticed the car keys in the long grass. "Holly shit Denny, look what I found." Jack prided the keys in his hand. Denny had been searching the seats for loose change. "Got enough to get us across the border." They started The Shark, turned up the heater and followed the tire tracks out of the field. Once at the paved road they had no sense of direction, so they flipped a silver dollar that Denny had found down in the crevice of the front seat. "Heads we go right." The coin showed tails. Luckily they drove directly into the little western town, topped the car off with $12.45 and headed for the border.