So the other day I escaped the confines of my office in search of nutrition. I do this. On a regular basis as it turns out. But that's not the point of this little story. See, I was in the truck. (Picture below courtesy of the manufacturer website.) The beautiful, cranberry red bad ass truck we bought awhile back that makes hubby (the not car guy) smile every time he gets in it, and serves as the workhorse we didn't even realize we needed around our house. We haul a lot of stuff in, a lot of stuff out, enjoy outdoor stuff that benefits from having a truck around, and so on. But I digress. Hubby was out of town for a few days, so I was driving the truck. I love the truck. It makes a really cool growl-y sound when you accelerate. You can feel it in your butt, and there's something way cool about that. I'm digressing again. Anyway, I'm minding the speed limit, making my way to lunch, when this deranged, over caffeinated, aggressive driving person, whose l...