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Call me Maverick. Ever since I got my new truck, my life has changed forever.
Hopping out of the driver's seat in my Levi leather jack, hair elegantly disheveled, I approach the stately old building where I work.
Suddenly I am stopped by an authoritative official saying, "Congratulations on the new truck! How do you like it?"
"I love it," I said. "It is the perfect no-compromise vehicle if you ask me." He grins and nods approvingly, as his interest has been piqued. This is just the beginning.
As I exit the office and make a beeline for my vehicle, I am once again stopped by a woman from the office, "So, I saw that you got a new truck... Is that an electric?"
"Not exactly, " I responded. "But it does get really good mileage all the same."
Needing to remove the salty haze from the latest snow storm, I swing by the local car wash. As I ease into line, I see the ladies in a car parallel to mine pointing in my general direction. As I try to figure out what they are looking at, checking my windows and my rearview mirrors, one removes her cell phone from her pocket and takes a picture. Realizing they are focused at me and my truck, my face turns red and I slink down in my seat. It seems that my shiny and novel truck is making me a bit of a small-town celebrity.
Angling for the front door, ready to take on a brand new day this theory plays out, as another figure of authority approaches and says, "Good morning, Maverick!" As he launched into a series of questions about my new vehicle, I knew that my life was going to be different going forward. This was before I ever got to carry my first load, try overlanding or get any of "the stuff" I had planned for my Oxford White beauty done.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I spot a Velocity Blue Maverick, confidently plodding along. The driver rolls down the windows and produces a hearty wave. He nods proudly, as we silently acknowledge we are men of impeccable taste and unusual substance - "Mavericks".
Hopping out of the driver's seat in my Levi leather jack, hair elegantly disheveled, I approach the stately old building where I work.
Suddenly I am stopped by an authoritative official saying, "Congratulations on the new truck! How do you like it?"
"I love it," I said. "It is the perfect no-compromise vehicle if you ask me." He grins and nods approvingly, as his interest has been piqued. This is just the beginning.
As I exit the office and make a beeline for my vehicle, I am once again stopped by a woman from the office, "So, I saw that you got a new truck... Is that an electric?"
"Not exactly, " I responded. "But it does get really good mileage all the same."
Needing to remove the salty haze from the latest snow storm, I swing by the local car wash. As I ease into line, I see the ladies in a car parallel to mine pointing in my general direction. As I try to figure out what they are looking at, checking my windows and my rearview mirrors, one removes her cell phone from her pocket and takes a picture. Realizing they are focused at me and my truck, my face turns red and I slink down in my seat. It seems that my shiny and novel truck is making me a bit of a small-town celebrity.
Angling for the front door, ready to take on a brand new day this theory plays out, as another figure of authority approaches and says, "Good morning, Maverick!" As he launched into a series of questions about my new vehicle, I knew that my life was going to be different going forward. This was before I ever got to carry my first load, try overlanding or get any of "the stuff" I had planned for my Oxford White beauty done.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I spot a Velocity Blue Maverick, confidently plodding along. The driver rolls down the windows and produces a hearty wave. He nods proudly, as we silently acknowledge we are men of impeccable taste and unusual substance - "Mavericks".
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