Since the weekend, I have been experiencing problems with my truck’s left blinker. I turn it on, and then it fails to turn off, unlike my right blinker, which works perfectly.

After this morning, I know I need to repair it.

Turning off Pyramid Highway and into the Walmart parking lot, I noticed a silver Toyota sedan with Florida license plates following me rather closely. The driver remained on my bumper even as I pulled in and parked.

Before I could turn my truck off, the driver, a man about eight years old, got out from behind the steering wheel and angrily confronted me, “You’ve been driving down the highway for the last four miles with your left blinker on!”

“Sorry, it has been malfunctioning, and I need to fix it.”

“Well, you best ’cause no one likes it when a person doesn’t turn or change lanes when they say they will.”

“Got’ya,” I returned. “By the way, your left blinker is still flashing.”

He looked at his car without looking back at me, shouted, “Dammit!” got back behind the wheel, and drove away.


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