Celebrity

the sable glinting kenworth pulls up alongside my air conditioned guardshack
i jot down the carrier, tractor, and trailer numbers on my clipboard
and slam open the door
the dense viscous heat of the Ohio valley rushes in
"Howdy. First name sir?"
"First name's Ree-ick." he spits tobacco juice toward the flower planter
his voice a heavy brogue from somewhere Deep South
i note his identity and hand him his paperwork
the bill of lading has him bound for wheeling west virginia
a lowe's store
everbody needs drywall
i hit the button to raise the gate that lets him in the plant
"Ay anybody ever tell yew ya look a lot like that Buddy Holly?" he asks
"Yeah sometimes."
"It's them glasses man. I betchoo git a lot a girls."
"Not too much man. There aint too many girls down here today."
"Mebbe y' oughtta learn to play the gi-tar!"