I've had my Ford Ranger ever since 1999. It's a 1993 model with 4 cylinders in the engine and 5 speeds on the floor. I've had a great many experiences with it over the years. I get to chalk up another one that isn't so much fun today.
Texas gets pretty hot, and my Ranger hasn't had air conditioning since 2012. I've learned to manage, though. Sweating isn't uncommon for me. It just runs down my back, legs, arms, you name it. It's not a big deal anymore.
I was heading to a fast food restaurant to get some ice for my wife today. About two miles out, I see a roach come from who knows where and crawl across my floor to under the passenger side dash. I've had plenty of bad experiences with roaches already, so I'm not happy about seeing this guy in my Ranger. I'm wondering how he got in, if he's the only one, and (most importantly) how I'm going to get him out. I already know I'm going to have to go upside down in my pickup to try to fish this nasty thing out. I'm going to go through the effort. I hate these things, and I don't want it to get on my backpack and end up in my apartment!
So, as I'm driving and contemplating, I feel sweat running down my ... wait, no. It's running up my leg. Bloody hell! Sweat doesn't run UP people's legs! I take my left hand off of the wheel and slap it down on my jeans where this alleged "sweat" is. I feel it run a little further up on the other side of my leg, near my knee. I slap down as hard as I can in this new spot, and hold it as tight as I can. I'm in the parking lot where the fast food joint is, so I just find a parking spot and shut off the pickup without taking my hand off of my leg.
So, I am careful about getting out of my pickup. I'm rubbing my jeans, not caring about what I think is on my leg. I get out and stand up, and sure enough, there's a roach that falls out of the bottom of my pant's leg.
I'm more incensed than disgusted or freaked out about it. I'm talking to this roach as I calmly step on it over and over. (I'm not cruel, after all. I don't want it to suffer. I just want it to die!) "You're freakin' serious?! You want to crawl up my pant's leg, right?! Seriously?! This is what you want to do?! This is how you wanted to die today?! How did you even get into my pickup?!"
I look up and see some woman in a minivan, and she averts her eyes before our eyes can meet. Whatever. I'm just glad the wife didn't have to know about it. That's really the main reason I'm talking about it here. I had to get it off my chest, but there's no way I was going to tell the missus.
Thanks, guys and gals.