- Did you shave today?
- No. I possess the miraculous ability to always maintain four-day stubble, like that one Property Brother.
- Yes. It’s expected at the accounting firm.
- What are you wearing on your head?
- A hardhat or cowboy hat. I never remove said hat under any circumstances, even while showering. If I attend a funeral and the minister says, “bow your heads,” I still wear my hat, although I may look a little awkward holding it in place.
- What remains of my hair.
- Are you towing anything?
- Heck yes! My first words as a baby were “towing capacity.” Right now, I am towing one of my many horse trailers, although soon I will swap it for a boat. After dinner, I will tow an airplane across a runway because that’s what real men do in their spare time.
- Technically, no, but I do have a bumper sticker announcing that my daughter made her middle school honor roll. Does that count?
- Your daughter’s name is: _______________.
- J.D. Power, Jr.
- You are driving to dinner in your truck. What is your destination?
- A rugged campsite perched suicidally close to the edge of a cliff and accessible only through a series of increasingly steep, muddy bighorn sheep paths. I don’t care what the law says, I am driving up those trails. Outta my way, sheep, I’ve got a bunch of horsepower and stuff!
- Applebee’s. After the day I had with that audit, I deserve some riblets.
- Do you talk like a real person?
- I talk like a real man, which means a low, growly tough-guy voice straight out of a Spaghetti Western. I always use my tough-guy voice no matter where I am, like, “this here ‘10 items or fewer’ checkout line ain’t big enough for the both of us, pardner.”
- Oh, God, you noticed my New York accent. It comes out sometimes when I am stressed, and I just got some not-so-great news about my cholesterol.
- In the average minute, how many times do you use the word “tough”?
- My truck is built tough because I’m tough. It drives tough and tows tough and has about a bajillion tough features. Like tough wheels, tough engine… Um, let me think… Tough cupholders, tough moonroof, tough lumbar-supportive heated seats, tough passenger visor vanity mirror. Tough!
- I am pretty sure I used that word yesterday when my son was upset about a “C” on his pre-calc test. “Tough luck, kiddo, but you’ll get ‘em next time.”
- What is in the bed of your truck?
- Hay bales I manfully tossed in, concrete pilings, a random assortment of power tools, farm products dropped from unnecessary heights, an extra horse that didn’t fit in the trailer, and a two-gallon emergency jug of pure, made-in-America testosterone.
- I think some rainwater is still sloshing around from a squall that hit when I was picking up cat food at Walmart. And then I had to go back because I bought the store brand and forgot the cat will only eat Fancy Feast.
- Do you drive on paved roads?
- I drive exclusively on windswept desert sands and dirt roads that throw up enormous quantities of dust. I also scrupulously avoid bridges in favor of plowing straight through streams and creeks at dangerous speeds. I insist on off-roading even when a paved road is literally three feet away.
- I’m stuck in rush-hour traffic on the Beltway. It’s been like this for forty minutes now. I should have just walked.
- Okay, final question: who would win in a fight between an ironworker and a cowboy?
- Trick question! All truck owners are both ironworkers and cowboys! Plus construction workers, farmers, and other rustic, salt-of-the-earth types who happen to have a spare seventy grand to drop on an F-150 Limited.
- Uh, I guess the ironworker because he’d like, hit the cowboy with an iron bar or something? Sorry, but I've got to go get on a Zoom.
All As: Congratulations! You are an actor starring in a truck commercial. Grab your cowboy hat and prepare to spend the afternoon driving at unsafe speeds on muddy roads and doing realistic things like towing stranded nuclear submarines out of the Arctic depths! (If you are a woman or minority, please recheck your answers; you are not allowed to star in a truck commercial).
All Bs: You are a suburbanite driving a truck in real life. Maybe you’ll finally get to tow something next summer if you can talk your family into that camping trip. Let’s face it, though, it probably makes more sense to just rent a boat when you get there.
Mixture of As and Bs: You have become unmoored from reality. Please seek prompt psychiatric assistance.