I was driving west on I-80 this week, trying to make it to a K-State game. My wife had asked me to drive (my least favorite thing ever.) The sun was looming at the perfect angle to scald my retinas slowly over the hour stretch before I turned south in Lincoln. The visor doesn't stay put and the plastic mirror cover on that side has snapped off so that it is actually more distractinghaving it down than glaring into the yellow dwarf star in front of me.
I found myself stuck in the speed lane behind a semitruck hauling a flatbed. The flatbed held two steel girders that extended over the back end. The girder on the bottom was larger than the one that sat on top of it.
I thought about how my eyes burned. I wondered where old people got those sunglasses that covered their entire faces. I wondered if I would need a pair soon and if Obamacare covered enormous visorshades. Then another thought popped into my head.
What on God's green Earth does anyone need with two steel girders of varying size? Maybe a large L shape... for Lincoln! Who orders only two? Really? What warrants such a steel girder emergency that allows this moron drive in the speed lane going 60 miles per hour?
I wondered if maybe a building in Lincoln was in disrepair and needed renovating. I imagined the conversation to have gone something like this:
The office of Bob, the City Planning Director. Stan, his trusty assistant director sits in a chair stage left. Both have intent looks as they stare at a blueprint of the community building. It is in disrepair.
Stan: The roof of the community center is kind of caving in on the East side.
Bob: Hey, you're right. We'll need to fix that right away. Any thoughts?
Stan: What we need here are some girders. Long ones, but one should be noticably smaller than the other one.
Bob: Good call, Stan. Let me place an order.
(Bob picks up the Red Phone that all city planning offices have. Dials number firmly.)
Girder Salesman: Hello
Bob: Good day. I need to place an order for some girders.
Girder Salesman: Go ahead.
Bob: Very good, sir. I need two steel girders.
Girder Salesman: Just two?
Bob: Yes, and make them different sizes.
Girder Salesman: Okay. We'll have those out on Wednesday. It is kind of an unusual order to only get two so we will have to have our driver use the speed lane and go at least 10mph under the limit right in front of Chris Phillips.
Bob: Sounds great. Thank you.
Stan: Now I see why you get to be the director.
(They high five and then talk Husker football.)