"What's good for the earth and all that."
"I often wondered how that worked," the young man behind the counter of the diner just south of Santa Fe said. He was leaning over the counter, having delivered Andy's breakfast, but not all that anxious to move on. Andy was a real looker. A regular Paul Newman, but with more muscle. And the young man behind the counter had his interests. Besides, the looks he was getting back indicated that the trucker, Andy, had similar interests.
"Yeah, gotta do what we can to keep the environment clean," Andy said. He had been trained well to parrot his company's policies, but he did, in fact, support keeping the environment as clean as possible.
Sadie, the older woman behind the counter, snorted in passing, "Ya mean getting the environment back to clean don't ya, sweetie. Make up for decades of screwing it up." She nudged the man behind the counter, "There's an order needing taken at the end of the counter, Stan, if you can get your eyeballs back into your head." As Stan reddened and scurried off, she turned to Andy. "Top off that coffee, sweetie?" She didn't have any objection to hunks herself.
"Yeah, thanks," Andy said, as the man behind the counter moved to the far end of the barstools. There was a young guy, some sort of mixed breed perched on a stool down the counter. Some part white in him, Andy thought, but something else. Native American? Hispanic? Whatever it was, it was a good mix. He was kind of small, but well formed and with a real good face. Andy wouldn't mind getting his dick into that one. And the glance the young guy gave him after he'd given his order to the counter man indicated interest too.
Andy smiled a bland smile back. He didn't have to be the one on the make. He had no trouble picking guys up on the road to fuck silly in the compartment behind his cab. He knew he looked like Paul Newman and was hung.
While eyeballing the honey at the end of the counter—well both of them; the mixed breed perched on the stool and the guy behind the counter, although, of the two the mixed breed was the winner—and being eyeballed in return, it hit Andy that something seemed a bit strange. Then he figured out what it was. When he'd seen the mixed breed walking across the windows outside before entering the diner, he'd been chatting with three other guys. Where were they? Andy looked around the diner and saw that the three were over at a table. A surly lot, he thought. He must have been mistaken about the really sweet-looking mixed breed having been with them. They looked like ranch hands just off a cattle drive, and looking for trouble.
Sadie had made a pass at serving them coffee but had backed out of their aura as fast as she could. She was at the end of the counter now, pouring for the small mixed breed. They exchanged a few words and then she turned and called down the counter to Andy.
"You driving that fancy rig out there? Guy here asked about it, but I was curious too."
"Yeah, that's mine," Andy said. His semitrailer was parked across the parking lot, all gleaming silver.
"Guy here says he ain't seen nothing that fancy around here before. Neither have I. He said that's got to have the biggest compartment behind the cab he's ever seen."
"Yep, it's a special model," Andy answered. "My home away from home. And the truck's a new-fangled design. Anderson's producing a few hybrid semi trucks now to see how they go. My company's motto is 'Anything for the Environment,' so I'm helping to test a hybrid model to see how it copes with hard hauls like the one from Santa Fe to Phoenix. So far so good. Good mileage for a semi, fewer emissions, and it's pullin' OK so far."
"What'yer hauling this trip?" the counter man asked.
"Electronic gear. TVs and computer monitors mostly. Taking them from Santa Fe to Phoenix."
Sadie snorted, "So much for the environment. Fancy earth-friendly truck haulin' ozone killers."
Andy was about to respond to that, when there was a growl from across the room. The three dusty cowboys wanted to order. Sadie pulled a pencil out of her hair and a notebook out of her pocket and sauntered off across the room.
Andy finished his coffee, tossed his money down on the counter, and went to the head to take a piss before going back on the road. He was standing at the urinal, pissing a strong arc onto the porcelain wall when he heard the bathroom door open. He turned his head a bit as the good-looking mixed breed entered and sidled up to the urinal beside him. The young guy unzipped and turned and gave Andy a grin. He then lowered his eyes to Andy's urinal. Andy turned a bit to give the dude a good look at his package. He was proud of it—and had every right to be proud of it.
The other guy gave a little gasp, and Andy had to move a bit to his right, afraid that the mixed breed would piss on his pant leg in his loss of control at seeing how Andy was hanging.
The truck driver might have said something, as the come on seemed pretty obvious and the little guy was a really nice piece—and was equipped pretty well too. He was half hard just from looking at what Andy was packing, and Andy was about to give him an even better look, when the bathroom door opened again and the man behind the counter entered.
The idea of a threesome—all the signals had been there—raced through Andy's mind. But he didn't really have time for this, and he was a bit worried what that Sadie would say when the three had been in the head for some time. She had a mouth on her and didn't seem to put much restraint on what she'd say at full volume. And she seemed smart enough to have caught the vibes going on between the men out at the counter. She certainly seemed to have had the number of the guy behind the counter. Andy just didn't want to endure the walk from the head to the diner door—and there was always something he could pick up on the road. He'd never had trouble that way.
So, he zipped himself up, having emptied his bladder essentially before the mixed breed had entered the room, and relinquished the urinal to the counter guy. There were only two urinals. If Andy didn't back out fast, there obviously was going to be some action or some embarrassment at misreading signals. The counter guy seemed much more interested in what Andy and the mixed breed were doing than in taking a leak.
Andy marched quickly through the diner and out to his fancy environmentally correct semitrailer. He had to walk around an old Mustang convertible with a faded red paint job and an even older beat-up truck that had once been a U-Haul van but had been indifferently painted over in white to get to his rig. He checked around the semi for anything that looked like it might be trouble. Finding nothing worrisome, he pulled himself up into the truck cab and drove out onto Interstate 25 for the short leg to Albuquerque through the Santo Domingo and San Felipe Indian reservations. He'd been a while checking the truck and the Mustang and van were still parked by the diner when he drove out.
His mind went to the bathroom he had hastily left and to what maybe the counter man and the cute little mixed breed were still doing in there. He sighed with a bit of regret, almost sorry that he hadn't stayed for some action. It was true he could pick a guy up between here and Albuquerque, but chances were good he wouldn't be as nice a piece as that little mixed breed.