Miami Beach Beer Truck

herocious

Today I walked by the queerest vehicle. It happened on my way to the Miami Beach Public library, a walk that never fails to put me in touch with a joie de vivre.

At this point, I would like to note that it would be easy for me to digress – a pitfall of mine once I permit myself a moment to bask in the freedom of prose – but I will remain true to my subject: the queerest vehicle.

It’s parked on Sheridan Avenue. I’ve seen a man with cropped hair driving it around Miami Beach. Only one passenger at a time can enjoy the ride, that is, unless you’re good with sitting in the back compartment, in which case two people can get along just fine. But the back is clearly meant for storage of some kind. Maybe the man with cropped hair drives beer around to people who are in need of a drink but in no mood to travel to the store. That’s his line of business: Miami Beach Beer Truck. Seems like a respectable profession, one that is also recession proof. But it wasn’t the Beer Truck that I thought about when I saw this fun ride parked on its own concrete slab driveway. Instead, I had a strong vision of driving cross country. It would make the perfect cross country vehicle, especially if you could get it to run on solar power and fold the seat down to make extra leg room at night.

Me and my girl.

I could see myself sitting in the cockpit, my iPod singing tunes to me when I didn’t have the windows rolled down. In the cup holder: a bottle of ice cold water. Ride the whole way to San Diego in this fashion, just cruising in the right lane, since I can’t see this thing harnessing enough solar power to pass in the left, while my girl rested in the back until it was her turn to take over the wheel. There would be a small square mattress in the storage area with plush pillows along the perimeter, and a 3g netbook to stay connected. We would have to rest in the fetal position, one at a time, so there would be no stopping, not even for gas [courtesy of the sun]. But every now and then, especially on rainy nights, we would stop all together, fold the seat down, and indulge in the sleep of kings and queens under the pitter-patter of falling water. And sure, why not, we could even have a little cooler back there for beer and cherries and other good-fun miscellany.

I find comfort in these visions even though they neglect to factor in reality. Or maybe there’s plenty of reality, but not enough pluck. No matter, it all makes me smile.

January 28, 2010 1:59 pm

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