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exactly. Amtrak didn’t go to Sweetheart, but the good people at Enterprise understood and were happy to rent him a sober, sensible vehicle with excellent gas mileage.
    Well, not exactly.
    â€œI don’t understand.” It was an hour later, and he was in a near-empty parking lot with an unstable stranger. He eyed the thing he was expected to drive with no small amount of trepidation. “This is not a car.”
    â€œTechnically,” the unstable stranger agreed, “that’s correct. It’s a truck. A Supertruck!”
    The thing that wasn’t a car was the largest vehicle he had seen outside of a Greyhound bus. Tall ( very tall; he would have to stretch to reach the handle)) and long ( very long; he had never seen a truck with a four-door cab before), it was deep blue with a pattern of waves streaking the paint all along the side. On purpose, apparently, and doubtless to give observers the impression that, even parked, the Supertruck was a vehicle to be reckoned with.
    â€œYou promised to rent me a car and I promised not to destroy it.” He dragged his horrified gaze from the Supertruck to look at the woman foisting said Supertruck on him. “Those were the terms of the contract we just signed. This”—he pointed, since she didn’t seem to be getting it—“is not a car.”
    â€œI thought you might like to take advantage of our free upgrade,” the out-of-college-maybe-a-month agent explained cheerfully, her “Hi, I’m Dara!” name tag twinkling in the early-morning sun. Despite her extreme youth, Blake was seriously considering seducing her solely to get a car upgrade (downgrade?). He ought to be ashamed. He tried not to be so coldhearted about his bedroom trysts. It was something Rake would have done (he’d once seduced the manager of the local fried chicken eatery for free wings, and when Blake pointed out he was whoring himself for chicken Rake just laughed at him). “And look! There’s a little bitty ladder, right here, to help you climb in.”
    Blake eyed the little bitty ladder with trepidation. “The wheels come up almost to my thighs.”
    â€œI know, right? Isn’t it the best?”
    â€œNo.” He took a slow step back from the vehicle. It would never due to appear as if he was fleeing. He must not show fear! “I’d like a car now, please.”
    â€œLook, I can’t.” The overly cheerful attitude vanished, and in its place was an overly harassed attitude. “The Great Outdoors Band is in town and this is all I’ve got.”
    â€œWho? Never mind. Would you like to get a drink somewhere?”
    â€œIt’s nine A.M. ”
    â€œI’m aware of the time,” he replied grimly. “Listen, Dara, it doesn’t have to be drinks; I happen to be—” Stop. Stop, you heinous douche! Were you really about to blurt, I’m a big-city millionaire and not exactly hard on the eyes, please let me make love to you so I can drive a sedan ? Wow, stay classy, Blake. He hated when his internal voice sounded like Rake. He forced a cough and tried again. “The thing is, this, ah, vehicle isn’t—”
    â€œAnd I didn’t charge you extra for the upgrade.”
    â€œI would hope not.“Then: “It’s not an upgrade.”
    â€œYou should definitely gas up at least twice before you get there.”
    He gaped at her, impressed yet annoyed that a young woman barely of drinking age (if that) was dominating him so completely. Once more unto the breach. “Listen, forget about drinks. It may be possible you don’t understand what a contract is, so I’m going to take you through ours, step-by-step, until—”
    â€œEnjoy!” Exit Dara. Cue the agony of defeat.
    He sighed and tugged on the door handle, which was almost nipple high, then put a foot on the ladder and heaved himself inside. The Supertruck swallowed him and he managed to