I promised everyone more details regarding my “mad, moonlit dash into L. A. (Lower Alabama) with a chain-smoking, Diet Coke-swilling insomniac tow truck driver named Keith.”
In my community column in this coming Sunday’s Huntsville Times, I’ll deliver.
Looking back, I had two choices. I could have simply given the keys and a note to the dealer to Keith and had him deliver the car by himself and checked on it the next day as we drove through Montgomery on the way home. Or, I could get in the truck and see what adventures lay in store along U.S. 331 on a Friday night in the heart of the Deep South.
I got in the truck.