About Rebecca Eckler
Since becoming pregnant with her daughter Rowan, Canadian journalist and author Rebecca Eckler has penned three hilarious books, including the best-selling Knocked Up. Catch Rebecca’s weekly unique perspective on motherhood and single parenthood.
This post is for one of my closest friends, Joanna Track, who is the founder of this site.
Joanna is making me write this. This is because I think she finds me ridiculous. She’s not entirely wrong. I’m the type of person that, at least once a week, people will say, “Only you would do that.” Or, “Only that could happen to you.”
This is one of those stories that made Joanna laugh so hard, that she demanded I write about it.
A bit of background: Joanna is in the process of gutting a new house. So, I asked her if the construction worker lunch trucks came by. “Yes, they do,” she answered. “Why do you want to know that?”
See, I know about construction worker’s lunch trucks because shortly after moving into my house, the owners across from me decided to gut their house. The noise was annoying at first, but I found the silver lining.
The silver lining was the construction worker lunch truck that came by every day at noon to feed the workers. From my office in my house, I could look out the window, and see the white truck pull up. In fact, the construction workers would line up on my driveway.
One day, I was in the middle of writing a book and I was STARVING. There was no food in my house and I don’t like to be interrupted while the writing is flowing. There was no way I was going to get into my car and drive to get something to eat.
Luckily, I didn’t need to. Yes, I headed downstairs (in my bathrobe) and joined the line of (hot and sweaty) construction workers with their hard hats, who were picking out and paying for sandwiches and drinks from the truck.
“Um, excuse me,” I said to the driver of the truck. “Can anyone buy food from this truck or do you have to be a construction worker?”
“You have money, you can buy something,” he said. I ignored the odd glances from the construction workers looking at me in my bathrobe, while I chose between a hamburger and a hotdog. I bought the hamburger and a diet coke and headed back inside. So what if the construction workers were thinking, “Who is that crazy lady?”
I took one bite of that hamburger and thought, “This is disgusting.” But, for weeks, I would still head to the truck at noon to buy at least a diet coke and banana or a muffin. The construction workers became used to my daily presence and would nod at me in acknowledgement.
When the house was finally done, something was definitely missing in my life. No longer did I have lunch service – delivered to my house. It was a sad day.
So, J.T, enjoy the lunch truck while it’s there. Just stay away from the hamburger. My tip to you, my friend. My tip to you.