It's In The Truck

“It’s in the truck.”

I’ve owned two small SUVs in the past eleven years, and while neither trucklet had a live rear axle, abysmal gas mileage or an open bed, both have been referred to as trucks primarily because of stance and utility. To some, both of mine were members of the “cute ute” craze from the early 2000s:  small, easy to live with, and not as brute as the larger vehicles in the category. They looked like world beaters that could go anywhere although reality limited them to the parking lots and muddy driveways of the world. Muddin’ was fun, but I’m pretty sure Hyundai did not intend for that when the Santa Fe debuted in 2001, and despite the picture of one Escape rock climbing in the brochure, Ford did not recommend that type of fun in the woods for most owners.

I guess the looks trumped the utility although I’ve gotten a boatload of use from my pair of crossovers.

I’ve also kept a ton of knick-knacks hidden in secret cubbyholes and flat-folding areas without compromising space for my backseat passengers along the way with some longer exceptions, such as two-by-fours and end table sets. Maybe I should let practicality trump my ego and stick with these vehicles instead of having pickup dreams, but I don’t want to lose my man card over a Subaru Outback wagon.

Among said knick-knacks:  a pair of first-aid kits, jumper cables, toothbrush and toothpaste, a blanket, and an engagement ring.

Today’s story is about the engagement ring and a little bit of trickery.

Several years ago, I was burning the candle from morning to night and sleeping on Saturday afternoons with only an alarm at 9 pm reminding me to wake up to sling dog food for eight hours at my night job. I had been saving for my then-girlfriend’s engagement ring for months and otherwise working myself into oblivion when I had discovered I had paid it off early and needed to store it somewhere safe.

Where can I hide this big-ass rock?

At the nearest Bank of America branch if I paid for a locker? Nope, I didn’t want to pay for a locker.

What about leaving it with the jeweler? That wouldn’t work; she didn’t have room to sit on a purchase that was already paid in full in her inventory.

At Mom and Dad's house? There is that forty-five minute commute, so that negated itself with $3.50/gallon gas prices. 

Well, there’s one other place…

The truck.

How long could I hide it in there?

What if she decides she needs to drive it one day? Chastity has her own vehicle, so why would she drive mine for any reason beyond the fact it had a full tank of gas?

I thought long and hard until I remembered I had a false floor in the cargo area that aside from my jumper cables lay mostly dormant. The glove compartment would have been too obvious and so would have the console between the front seats; besides, I had CDs, No-Doz, and Advil in droves underneath a slew of receipts. The first-aid still had a toothbrush, but I desperately needed to replenish it with newer Band-Aids. That box would’ve certainly been seen from a country mile had she decided to open the tailgate and look at the blue bulge sticking out on the right.

I immediately put in the center shelf of the false floor. Hey, if I left my frat blanket and the cargo net spread out, maybe she wouldn’t think anything of it.

Days went by and as they extended themselves into months, I was trying to maintain the story AND keep her out of the truck:  only one of the two did work out for me. 

Guess.

I did have one scare when she said that she would tear apart the truck and fortunately, that was just a threat. Nevertheless, I needed to think quickly.

“Uh…you can’t look in there.”

“Why?”
“You may find something that you don’t need to see.”

“Like?”

“Uh…man, I dunno. Christmas presents, 22s, beer, a new computer, I don’t know. What’s the big deal?”

“You have something in there. That’s why you’re still holding the keys!”

“You’re not going to find out because the answer is no. Like hell you are going through my truck! You must be some kind of crazy!”

“I got your crazy right here.”

“OK. Do it. See what happens.”

I had supreme confidence in my abilities to hide stuff yet I was spooked when Chastity called my bluff. I just hope she completely misses the ring.

I was right!

Christmas morning, I did go to the truck to retrieve the ring. It was still there and once she accepted my proposal of marriage, I told her where I had it hidden for the past few months. Shocked, she kept on grinning and taking pictures of her left hand in what seemed to be infinite angles.

Eight months later, we married and you know how the story ends. I still keep certain objects in the truck albeit not as pricey these days, but anytime I need to hide something, I still live by four simple words:

“It’s in the truck.”