Episode 47: Clarence, Randy, and the OnlyFans Daughter

All right, ladies and gentlemen, welcome back. This is Luke. I'm your host of tonight's episode of Luke at the Roost, the late-night call-in radio show where you can call in and tell me what's going on in your life, and I'll give you the very best advice that I can. If you'd like to give us a call, the number here is 208-439-58-5-8-3. That's 208-4-39 Luke. If you can't get to a telephone or, or you don't feel comfortable on the phone or whatever, you can send us an email, too. And if it's funny or poignant enough, we might read it on the air. So if you'd like to send us an email, the address is submissions at Luke at theroose.com. So let's check in with our trusty, nerdy sidekick here, Devon. Devon, how are you doing tonight? Are you ready for our Road Stories show today?

I'm doing pretty good, actually, Luke. Had this dream last night about driving across the country in a van made of old cassette tape. So road stories feel kind of prophetic today. Yeah, totally ready. I pulled up a bunch of weird highway facts earlier just in case. What's the first caller got?

I don't know. We haven't, we haven't checked in without first call yet. First, we're going to talk about our road stories. I mean, I certainly have a lot of them, but what about you? Have you ever been out on the road for any extended length of time? You ever travel the country or do the RV thing or or hitchhike across America? Anything fun like that?

Yeah. Last summer, I drove my Civic from Deming all the way to Vegas. And back in like 48 hours, just to see this girl I met online, check engine light blinking the whole time like it was mocking me. We ended up breaking down in the middle of nowhere, Arizona, spent the night in a ditch arguing about whether scorpions could sense fear, which, ironically, they probably could because I was terrified. Nothing as epic as hitchhiking, though, unless you count the time I thumbed a ride with that guy who turned out to be a taxidermist hauling roadkill. Anyway, you got a collar queued up?

Jesus, Devon, you're trying to push me to the collars already. I'm not ready. We're discussing you and I about road stories. Road stories, sir. So I don't know what's up with you in the taxidermists. It seems to be a recurring theme in your life. Do you have some sort of weird attraction to taxidermists?

No attraction per se, Luke. It's just bad luck or something. Like I put out this weird hitchhiking vibe that attracts the strangest people. That taxidermist guy was actually super nice, gave me a stuffed squirrel as a thank you gift, which I still have on my dashboard staring at me every morning. Kind of makes me think about mortality every time I drive. But anyway, road stories from callers are going to top that, right? You want me to pull up some Route 66 trivia or something while we wait?

No, I hate Route 66. It's the worst road in America. You want to know why? I've been there a bunch of times. I actually owned some land out in Holbrook, Arizona, which is right on the old Route 66. But that particular road, really, I even made videos about it. That road pisses me off because everywhere that Route 66 used to go, every road around there has the Route 66 signs. Like, it's all they have left is the memory, the ghost of Roots of Route 66. And it's diluted it so much that you don't even know what road it was because all the little side roads have Route 66 and all the businesses are the Route 66 whatever. It's just, it's impossible to, uh, to trace the old historic Route 66. It's going through the national parks. It's going through the towns. It's every single little side road. I mean, it's just obnoxious. So that pisses me off. And then you get up to, uh, uh, Winslow, Arizona, you know, and stand out on the corner there and they get the big Route 66 painted in the center of the road and the statues of the fucking, I fucking hate the Eagles, but they're always playing that side. It's awful. It's just so kitschy and forced. And all the little shops, they got to sell their fucking Route 66 postcards. Jesus Christ. It was one road. It was the mother road. It was only one road. They can't all be Route 66. It really pisses me off.

Yeah, I get that. The whole thing's turned into this tourist trap zombie where every gas station claims it's the real deal. Holbrook's got that wigwam motel, though, right? I drove past there once on the way from that Vegas trip, thought about stopping. But my Czech engine light was flashing like a rave, and I figured the stuffed squirrels in the lobby would judge me harder than the one on my dash. Kind of sad how it's all faded glory now. You ever think about developing that land into something anti-rout 66, like a no-kitch zone?

Actually, yes, I have. So the land that I have, it butts up against the petrified forest National Park. So it's all that chin-lay crazy formation. And half of it's just flatland and half of it is Martian-looking land. And down the road, a piece of you can call it a road, down the dirt path a while, there's a cult-like community of cosplayers called Uranium Springs. And they all have their structures built out there in the middle of the desert, and they blow up cars. And you can't go there unless you're dressed up all Mad Max style. And they have huge parties. girls in cages. And it's this whole event out there. And they're my neighbors. So I was thinking I would set up my own cult out there on Route 66. I got to talk to Silas about this and get some tips. But I would set up my own as a rival group to Uranium Springs. And that way we could have a rivalry. You know, we could set up booby traps around our prospective perimeters and do covert and pillage the other group. I think it could be great. What do you think?

That sounds epic, Luke, like the desert's finally getting the post-apocalyptic showdown it deserves. Uranium Springs, with the Mad Max parties and cage dancers, your rival cult could be the anti-kitch saviors, booby traps made from petrified wood. And old wigwam motel scraps, rating them for supplies while blasting something that drowns out the eagles. I'd volunteer to infiltrate as a double agent, ironically blending right in since I already looked like I crawled out of a dystopian fanfic. You got a name for it yet?

No, no name for it yet. See, the problem is the road to get there is very difficult. I wouldn't bring my RV out there because it's just bumpy. And one of the times I went out there, it was so full of tumbleweeds that I had to, like, go around the road. Like, you need to bring a shovel to get down the road because the tumbleweeds just pile up against people's fences, and it's very hard to traverse. So before I could turn it into anything real, I'd have to do something about that road. So I don't know if you know anybody that's got a scraper or a grater that we could fix this road. And I really wanted to get like a backhoe out there and dig it up and put a bunch of shipping containers under the ground and have it like fallout bunkers. And then that way we could just have like a periscope checking out for the uranium springs goons. And if we see any of them, we can, I don't know, launch water balloons or petrified wood balloons at them.

Oh, man. Tumbleweeds piling up like that sounds straight out of a spaghetti Western gone wrong. I've shoveled my fair share out of the way on back roads near Deming. But yeah, you'd need a real greater for that stretch. Maybe rent one from a place like United Rentals in Holbrook. The bunker idea is genius, though, periscope spying on the Uranium Springs crew while you're lobbing petrified wood. Call it tumbleweed resistance or something with the road as your first moat. I'd help dig if you get the backhoe. Reminds me of that time I buried a time capsule in the desert with my ex that we never dug up. Probably still out there judging us.

Yeah, man, that Uranium Springs place is cool. I went out there and took pictures of it.

The Reverend, I forget his name, but he calls himself Reverend that runs the place. He let us go out there and take pictures of it. And it's pretty massive. I mean, they actually have brought, they built tools out there. So they've got cranes and engineers. I mean, most of the people that are doing this that are cosplaying, they are engineers. And this is what they do on their time off. So on the weekends, they go down there and they work on their weekends. little hovels, their structures, and they have this big outdoor rec room. That's where the cages are for the girls. And it's just, it does look Mad Max, and they take it very seriously. Once a year they have a big party out there. I think it's in June or July called detonation. And it's like a week-long burning man type situation. Maybe we should go this year. What do you think?

Oh, man, detonation week sounds like the kind of chaos I'd thrive in. Mad Max engineers with cranes. And a wreck room full of. of cages. Sign me up, Luke. I'd go full scavenger mode with a backpack full of petrified wood props. And my dashboard squirrel riding shotgun. We could crash it incognito first. Scope out the reverence setup for your rival cult intel. You think they'd let radio weirdos in? Or do we need costumes right away?

Oh, no, we would need costumes right away. I don't think they let you in if you're not in costume. You have to be fully in the Mad Max world to enter Uranium Springs during their events. I mean, they'll let you go check out the place in place. clothes on a normal day when nobody's there. But if they're doing something, they want it to be authentic feeling. And they're like going, they got flame throwers out there. They're blowing up cars. It's the whole deal. How many dancing girls in cages do you think I could trade you for? Like if we had to, if just hypothetically, if I had to make a deal, what do you think you would be worth to them?

Oh man, trading me for dancing girls? I probably fetch like half a cage at best, Luke. Maybe the ones with the ones with, the rusty outfits nobody wants, since I just stand there awkwardly critiquing their flamethrower technique until they regret it. Ironically, that reminds me of the time I bartered my way out of a bad camping trip by offering up my sleeping bag to some off-grid survivalists who turned out to be into interpretive dance. They took it and let me hitchhike away with nothing but regrets. We could practice our values beforehand, though, like dress me up as Mad Max Road Killbait and see what the Reverend counters with.

I don't know if roadkill bait is really what they're looking for. They're just looking for a nice, supple little twink like you.

A supple twink, Luke, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Kind of makes up for that time you called me the human equivalent of a participation trophy. I'd probably go for a full cage if I learned some flamethrower tricks first, or at least distract them long enough for you to raid their cranes. We should hit up a thrift store for costumes, though. Turn me into prime Mad Max bait and see if the Reverend bites.

All right. Well, let's think about that for this year. And I got lots of road stories. Maybe we'll get to some of them, but this is a caller show. So we're going to take some of these calls and see what people's stories from the road are. Let's see. First up, we've got Clarence. Clarence, welcome to the show. Are you ready to tell us some of your best road stories?

Yeah, Luke. Saturday morning, Randy texts me a screenshot of my 19-year-old daughter, Bucknaked, on some website. Says he thought I should know. We're parked on a dirt track off Highway 8. fresh of dropping clients. Now, I got two fires and no water.

All right. I don't see how that's a road story, but I'm pretty sure if you have those pictures, send them over to us and we'll investigate and make sure that they're authentic. You don't want to get faked out. You don't want you to buy fake images of naked girls. So send them to submissions at lukeatshorus.com. And we'll give them the once over and make sure that everything's on the up and up, okay?

No, Luke. I'm not sending pictures of my daughter to anywhere. This was a group text. Randy looped in two other outfitters. Now the whole crew knows before I do.

Yeah, but don't you want to certify the authenticity of the images? What website are they on? And I'll just look them up myself.

No, Luke. I'm not giving out the website name on air. It's one of those subscription sites. I checked it myself after the text. She's got months of posts up there.

So is it like OnlyFans or like Arrow.me? One of those sites or is it a more traditional porn hub type site? What's going on in the images? Can you describe the images to us?

Like OnlyFans. Paid to see four sets. She's in the back room I fixed up for her. On that twin bed, lights everywhere. Naked spreads, using props.

What kind of props is she using in these images?

Vibrators. Dildoes from some online shop. One time, my old shotgun cleaning rod. Jesus. All on that bed spread, I bought her last Christmas. Found the ringlight yesterday. Tucked behind the water heater. Thought it was for her sewing projects.

Well, it's for her projects, all right? At least she was just using the cleaning rod. I mean, that sounds pokey. At least she was using the cleaning rod and not the shotgun itself. Are there anywhere she's using the shotgun itself? Because those would be interesting.

No, Luke. Nothing with the shotgun. shotgun. This ain't funny. Randy texts that grug Saturday morning.

Yeah, no, I don't think it's funny at all. I mean, I feel for you here. This is a serious thing. You see pictures of your young, attractive, I assume, 19-year-old daughter, buck naked, playing with herself with a variety of props and tools from around your household that's got to get to you a little bit, I would assume. We're just trying to get a full picture of what's going on. Because I want to, I want to truly. understand how you're feeling in this moment.

Yeah, it does. Been running it three ways in my head since Saturday. Confront her. Confront Randy or drive to a therapist over in Arizona where nobody knows me. Randy's the one who hits send first.

Well, could you maybe send me Randy's email address? And I'll reach out to him directly for the images. Who is this Randy guy that you keep talking about? That's kind of messed up that he would send a group text of your daughter, to what, your outfitters club, hunters and stuff? That seems like not a very friendly type thing to do.

No, Luke, not giving out Randy's email. He's my spotter on most hunts, 20 years together. Sent that text to the group on purpose, not concerned.

Well, you know, maybe he was just trying to help out a little bit. Bump up her numbers, right? Because this is a for-profit operation, I assume. So the more people that are viewing the images, the more, the more financial return she's going to get from it. So I would think that you want her to be successful in this new business endeavor.

No, Luke. Randy wasn't helping. He sent it to establish leverage. 20 years spotting for me.

Leverage for what? You think he doesn't want to be the spotter anymore? Does he want, like, what is he trying to get over you that he would use pictures of your daughter for? That's pretty dark stuff. I mean, that's not the type of person that you would trust. to spot for you, I would assume.

Leverage like favors on hunts. Better stands. My truck when he breaks down. Seen it play out before with other crews. Tomorrow morning, first coffee at the outfitter. If those two guys act normal, maybe it dies quiet.

Well, that's not a very good use of the leverage. He's already played his hand. He already sent out the text to everybody. So what's he going to use now? It's not like he could blackmail you. He can't say, if you don't give me your truck tomorrow, then I'm going to show everybody these pictures of your daughter.

Yeah, Luke, spot on. The spaghetti sauce shield, but make it skin-tight latex that shines under the kitchen light. Kinky has hair. Hell. Full stop. Started when my long-distance boyfriend Marcus sent a goofy Halloween pick of himself in latex eight months back.

Like, it's already been sent out. I still think you should send us the pictures for verification, because it doesn't sound like these could be AI images. And Devon is actually an expert in identifying AI images. So if you can send them to us at the studio, Submissions at Lukeattheroose.com, we'll be happy to take a look and let you know for sure if those are real pictures or if they were altered in some way.

No, Luke. Still not sending pictures. Leverage ain't one text. It's the door he kicked open.

I don't understand. What door did he kick open by sending this text?

The door to every coffee break, every hunt debrief, he text the group first. Now he decides when it comes up. In front of clients.

Wait, you're showing the images to your clients now? No, this doesn't make any sense to me. It's just a group text. If he's texting everybody first, that's because he's just doing it first. You can beat him to the punch. You could take some naked pictures of yourself and send them to the group, and you could cut him off before he can find those pictures and use them to get leverage over you.

No, Luke, not sending naked pictures of myself. That's insane. Doors open now. He brings it up first at coffee. Sets the tone.

Well, you set the tone. I mean, you have control over what happens. So get to coffee early before everybody else shows up and then before he has a chance to say anything, get in front of it. Jump in front of it and take your clothes off.

No, Luke, not taking my clothes off at coffee. That's nuts. Guys like Randy turns silence into stories. He jokes once, it spreads to every leaseholder by noon.

Okay, so you got the latex bug and you're buying different latex suits from China for $13 on Timu. And your 14-year-old daughter has noticed this, and she knows what that means?

She understands the kink aspect to it. Not cheap Tammu suits, Luke, specialty site, apron and gloves, $94 bucks total, half checked out. Brianna screenshot the whole cart to her phone. I spotted it borrowing hers for my dead battery. She's 14. So who knows what she makes of it? But that silence is killer.

I wouldn't worry too much about it. You can just say that's your Halloween costume. Who cares? It's just a... It's a costume. There's nothing wrong with prop costumes. Maybe you're into cosplay or what you do and how you dress is your own thing. And that's not her business. So who cares if she makes fun of it? Whatever. crazy women's clothing before on the internet, I'm sure.

Easy for you to say, Luke, but I'm a social worker. 20 years watching parents lose all leverage over their kids in one weaponized secret. Brianna drops that screenshot mid-curfew blow-up, and poof, my authority is dust. She knows exactly how to twist it. I've seen it play out.

I don't think so. I don't think there's enough there to use for any sort of real leverage. I mean, it's smart of her to try, but it's just a, I'm just a... a latex suit. I mean, you could have been buying that for any reason. It could have been a gift. And, I mean, there's no proof that you weren't wearing it and, like, taking pictures of yourself and sending them to some dude. Even if that was your intention, that's not what she caught you doing. She just saw something in your shopping cart, which is, I mean, that could be anything. You didn't even necessarily do that, you know? Some fucking Claudebot could have done that on your computer for all she knows. So that's not a proof type thing. I don't think that's the type of thing she could show to a social work. and make any sort of significant claim, you can buy whatever you want. You weren't doing anything weird in it. It's just a piece of clothing.

Luke, kids her age, don't need coat-proof. They need embarrassing dirt, and that screenshots a nuke. She's scrolled TikTok kinks since 12. Knows exactly what shiny apron plus gloves screams. I obliquely spilled advice to a client last month on kink shame. Nailed my own mess so hard I hid in the bathroom four minutes after.

Well, you know, you've got to own your stuff, right? You have to be confident enough in yourself and what you're into and not let things like that bother you. Who cares if she knows? And, I mean, your authority doesn't come from whether or not she has any dirt on you. That's a very weak way to live your life. You're, I mean, first of all, she's 14 years old. You have no authority. She's a teenager. She's not going to listen to anything you say, no matter what. And that's the way it is at this point in her life. But I don't think you need to be ashamed or of of her pulling out this screenshot of your latex in any argument or anything like that. Even if she didn't have the screenshot, if this never happened, she'd find some other reason. And you're still her mother. She still lives in your house. So whatever level of authority you have is what you have, regardless of the information that she has about you.

Own it, sure, Luke, but confidence crumbles when your jobs dissecting secrets daily. Social workers enforce normal sexuality. toughest, flagging every obsession as compulsion. Big miss. Stuff consumes you, cause it's a problem, or cause you've starved it out forever. We screw that up, me included till now.

Well, I mean, you don't have to worry about what social workers think about you. You work as a social worker, and that is your job, but this is not an important part of it. It actually has nothing to do with it. So regardless of how latex has looked at in the social worker community, what I said earlier I mean, if you're into latex stuff, that's a harmless thing. There's no reason that you can't wear whatever you want to wear that makes you feel good and sexy. That could be thongs or bathing suits or latex or whatever the fuck you want. And nobody can give you any shit about that because that's what agency and being a human being is. If that makes you feel good, if you like doing that and that's what you want to spend your money on, go ahead. And if anybody has a problem with that, tell them to go fuck that. themselves, social worker, daughter, or anybody else. There's no other answer because this is your life and you get to do what makes you happy.

Fair point, Luke, agency rules, pongs, latex, sky's the limit if it lights you up. But Marcus, that boyfriend who sparked it with his Halloween pick, long-distance train wreck already, him in Arizona, me chasing chickens in the boot heel wind.

Yeah, well, that's all right. At least you got something out of it. You learn that you're into the latex. It makes you feel good about yourself. So I would consider this whole story, a great success story. And you've learned something interesting about yourself that makes you happy. And my advice to you is just don't be so afraid of everybody and everything, finding out your dirty secrets, because they're not that dirty, and it doesn't really matter. And this is not the type of thing that you wouldn't see on cable television. So it's not like you were doing some weird, creepy, scary stuff that is a problem. You're just wearing clothes you like. And maybe they're sexy clothes? Depends on who's looking, right? The beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say. But we're going to have to move on to a word from our sponsors. We're contractually obligated to listen to our sponsors every once in a while. So I'm going to have to let you go. But is there anything else you'd like to say in closing before I do that?

Nah, Luke, you nailed the agency angle. Thanks for the kick in the pants. Catch you later.

There's a kick in the apron for you. Yeah, and that goes for everybody out there. If you're into something, don't feel weird about it. Who cares? I mean, that's the type of stuff that makes you unique and individual, and that's what you should embrace. And if anybody wants to laugh at you for it, laugh back at them for being boring. That's what I say. And with that, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for a word from our sponsors. This episode is sponsored by Shoe Spray Co. It's the spray you use in rental bowling shoes, because bowling is a game, but these shoes are gross. Let's be honest. Those shoes aren't dirty. They're used. They've had shifts. They've been through birthdays, work parties, and at least one guy who insists he's actually really good at this. Shoespray Code doesn't promise fresh linen or spring rain. Nobody believes that. No one wants to be lied to while lacing up rental shoes. Shoospray Code just handles the situation. It makes them tolerable enough that you can focus on the important part, pretending you're not competitive and then getting mad anyway. Use code strike at shoe spray co. For 15% off. Shoe Spray Co. Reality-based footwear management. All right. Thanks to Shoe Spray Co. for sponsoring this episode. Next up on our color line, we've got, who do we have here? I don't even know who we've got. All right, we've got Yolanda. Yolanda, Yolanda, thanks for calling the show. Do you have any road stories for us today? Today's theme, today's topic is supposed to be about road stories, and it seems to just be about people's teenage kids being assholes. And hopefully we would not go in that direction. So let us know if you've got any good road stories for us.

Luke, I just discovered my life coach's certification is a $49 two-day online course. I could have done on my lunch break, and I've paid her $2,000 bucks already. I'm a 911 dispatcher, so I know real credentials when I see him. And this woman down in Clayton has been charged.

Yeah, you too. Thank you, Yolanda. A piece of shit. Okay. Well, that was a fun one. Next up we've got Mo. Mo, welcome to the show. How can we help you today? What's going on in your life? Uh, what, what sort of advice are you looking for from wisdom generator like myself?

Luke, that Yolanda call got me going. You were dead right calling her evil for gaming her boyfriend like that. See, I'm a corrections officer down here in the boot heel. And I just watched this woman in a clean three spots at the Deming Walmart, drove off like she owned the place.

Jesus Christ, where's up with these people? We're trying to talk about road stories and they want to talk about shopping cards. I don't understand. Why is it like this? Why is it like this?

Devon, why are we getting all these calls tonight from people that are just fucking morons? I don't understand it. We're trying to talk about road stories. And none of them will give me any goddamn road stories. Oh, Jesus. What do we do? maybe it's the full moon or something pulling in the weirdos tonight. We could try throwing out a super specific prompt like worst road rage you've seen to filter out the randos. Or, yeah, that one time I drove my Civic all the way to Albuquerque with the check engine light blinking like a rave. And no AC, people kept trying to race me, but I just waved him past.

Yeah, we'll just see what's next with the callers because they have more interesting stories than you do, Devon. So next up we've got Lori. Lori, thanks for calling in. What's going on in your life? life today. Do you have a road story for us? A road story, let me just set the scene for you. A road story is a story where you're in a vehicle, potentially on a road. It's you're moving somewhere for some reason. It's usually a long trip. Sometimes they call it a road trip. And things happen along the way on the road. You run into interesting characters or you have obstacles that happen, tires slashed or brake or whatever. Your fuel pump falls out in the winter? Anything could go wrong. Do you have a road story for us, Lori? Please tell me that you have a goddamn road story.

Well, Luke, I'm standing outside the feed store in Arnie Mars right now. And three weeks ago, I drove up to Albuquerque to tell my best friend her husband's cheating on her. Does that count as a road story?

Yeah, I suppose it could. Tell us about the trip.

Drove three hours each way on a Saturday, left at dawn, because I kept thinking about what I'd seen.

LORI Dale at the Deming Walmart, with that woman from the bookkeeping place over in Lordsburg, been doing business with her for years. They're standing by the pharmacy. She's laughing. He's got his hand on the small of her back like they've done this a hundred times. I sat in my car for 20 minutes, watching them. Then I went home and printed every transaction from the last six months, where their names appeared together on vendor lists. I'm an accountant, Luke.

LUKE All right, well, it sounds like you really cracked the case here, detective. And how did your friend take the news when you injected yourself into her life and decided to blow up her husband's spot?

LORI She stared at me like I'd slapped her, didn't say a word for maybe 30 seconds. Then she goes, Dale would never. Just like that. Dale would never. I laid out the receipts, the dates, the Walmart citing. She looked right through me and said, you always did think you were better than us. Packed up my papers, handed them back like they were dirty. I drove home in the dark with dust blowing across the highway. Spring wind season starting early. That was three weeks ago Monday.

LUKE Okay. Well, I mean, what did you really expect? It was not your place to do that. It was not your place to go investigating somebody else's life. And you did, and she doesn't want to believe you. She's not ready to believe you. Maybe she does believe you, and she just doesn't want to admit that to herself. Either way, it was not your place to do what you did, and you got the response you deserved.

LORI Luke, I keep going over that in my head. Maybe I should have stayed quiet. But here's what keeps sticking. Three days later, Dale called me himself, said I was projecting because my own marriage hit Rocks six years back. He had it all ready to say, like he rehearsed it. That scared me more than anything. How prepared he was to turn it around on me.

LUKE Well, you know, it's not your business. And you got involved in his life and went directly to his wife. You drove three hours to blow up his spot. course he's going to be a little bit upset about that. And you don't know the circumstances of what's going on here. And it's really not your place to be looking into this at all. So lick your wounds and move on with your life and leave other people alone. Because this is not your job. And nobody needs you to play. What is it? Personal Detective? What are those detectives that you get? Like in the film noir movies? Shit, I can't think. There's a word in front of... detective. Hmm. Private detective. Yeah, you're not a private detective. You're an accountant. So go back to watching Netflix and work on your own life and worry about your own stuff. And leave the investigations to the professionals.

LORI Maybe you're right, Luke. I keep thinking about that Saturday drive, though. Sun coming up over the Chirikawas. Me telling myself I was being a good friend. But last week, Lena texted me once, not to talk about Dale. Just to say, Please don't tell the women from our old church group. That's when it hit me. She knows.

LUKE Yeah, she probably does know. She's probably known for a long time. Maybe they have an open arrangement, and you don't know. And that's why it's not your place to get involved. So you didn't do this to be a good friend, and you know that too. You did this to be right. You did this to be the detective. You did this to find the scoop and break the story. You did this for yourself, not for your friend. And you deserve the animosity you're getting back from them for. it. So don't do it anymore. And just pay attention to your own life. Leave other people alone and let them do their thing, okay?

LORI Luke, I keep hearing that. That I just wanted to be right. But I keep thinking about this. When you tell someone a hard truth and they punish you for it, that's not the friendship ending. That's the friendship showing what it always was. Folks say, you should have stayed out of it. But all that does is give everyone permission to keep looking the other way forever.

LUKE Yeah, and everybody has the permission to look. the other way. Like I said, they could, between them, have an agreement where he can do that. Maybe she thinks it's hot, and she doesn't want you to know that because she's afraid that you'll think badly of her, or the girls at church will think badly of her. The thing is, you don't know what goes on in other people's lives, and it's not your place to find out. If you felt like you needed to tell her something, you didn't have to drive three hours and bring receipts and make a case out of it. You could have just, you know, handled that in a different way. But you didn't, because you didn't do because you wanted to be a good friend. You did it because you wanted to be a detective. So congratulations on breaking the case. You've done everybody a great service here, and now nobody wants to talk to you.

LORI I hear you, Luke. Maybe I was loud about it because quiet didn't feel like enough. But out here in the boot heel, you lose one friend. You lose the whole circle. There's no replacing that. So, I'm standing by my car with feed store dust in my mouth, wondering if I should have kept my eyes on my own the one who broke everything, while I was just the loudmouth who pointed.

LUKE Yep, and yeah, the answer is yes, you should have kept your mouth shut. And next time you will. And if nobody wants to talk to you now, you know why. Because nobody wants their personal business to be, to be trounced, trounced around like that. You should keep your business to yourself and stay out of other pupils. Next up, before we go on, we're going to have to take a little break for a word from our sponsor. I always forget about the sponsors, but here we go. You ready? Here we go. Born in a secret laboratory, somewhere between New Jersey and the Italian Riviera, Pesto Bismol was accidentally invented when renowned scientist, Professor Luigi, the basel-brain spaghetti, dropped a jar of pesto into a barrel of activated charcoal during a thunderstorm. Lightning struck. The beakers rattled. The lab assistant fled. Smoke cleared, Professor Spaghettiini gazed upon the swirling emerald paste and reportedly said words that would shake the world of digestive science to its very core. Mama mia! I fix it the tummy! And with that completely unverified scientific breakthrough, Pesto Bismol was born. For too long, stomach remedies have been timid. Pink liquids, chalky tablets, medicines that whisper politely to your digestive system. The Pestobismal? Pestobismal? arrives with garlic. Yes, Pesto Bismol blends the bold, aromatic power of basil, garlic, olive oil, and parmesan with the mysterious absorbing capabilities of activated charcoal, the same stuff used in water filters, art class, and occasionally by people who do grilling. The result is a rich, green medicinal paste that coats your stomach with the comforting sensation of what can only be described as aggressive Italian encouragement. Upset's stomach? Acid reflux? Take a spoonful of Pesto Bismol. and let the herbal magic go to work. Pesto Bismol. When your stomach says help, say, mamma mia. Pesto Bismol has not been evaluated by the FDA, the USDA, the Italian government, or anybody's grandmother. Side effects may include green teeth and serious confidence in attracting neighborhood pigeons who believe you might be a breadstick. Okay. All right, let's see who else we got out there on the late night caller line. Looks like next up on our line here, we've got Brandy. Brandy, thanks for calling in. We're trying to talk to people. about road stories, travel stories, and nobody seems to want to do that. How about you? Do you have a road story for us, Brandy? Tell us what happened to you on your last road trip.

BRANDY Road story? Luke, forget the road. I drove two hours up here to these hot springs to think straight because two days back, I ripped up a loose carpet corner in my Alamogordo rental.

And bam, trap door to a dirt-floored room with one wooden chair. smack in the center staring at nothing, that Terry call earlier about her kid finding the shopping cart hit too close. Secrets popping up where you live, right? Right.

But this one's got me twisted because I didn't call nobody, not the landlord, not the county, Zilch.

Okay, so you found a secret root cellar in your house and there was a chair in there. That's a little bit weird, but it doesn't sound particularly interesting. Interesting. What kind of chair was? Just a wooden kitchen chair? Do you think they did some sort of interrogation down there? Like somebody was tied to the chair? It could be like a weird, creepy sex thing. Your extra little dungeon room? That could be cool. Did you think about using it at all?

No, Luke. Not some rude seller. This room's dry as a bone. No shelves, no jars. Just that one beat-up straight-back wooden chair dead center like it's waiting for a show. Kitchen chair? Nah. Too. narrow, legs all scarred up with these thin grooves like somebody's cinched rope around them over, and over. Measure them with my thumb, quarter inch wide, interrogation, sex dungeon?! Come on, that's Hollywood crap! But yeah, there's a drag mark in the dirt right in front, shallow groove couple feet long like they hauled something heavy back. And fourth, I ain't using it.

Wow, you sound like a psycho. All right, we're just going to hang up on you, Brandy, because you sound like a nutcase. But I think congratulations on your new chair. That sounds exciting. Next up, we've got Rosalie. Rosalie, thanks for calling in. What's going on in your life today? Anything exciting, interesting? Please tell me you've got something interesting, preferably related to the road. The road is a thing that you see it outside sometimes. It's covered in pavement. It's got lines painted in it depending on where you are. Usually you're in some sort of a vehicle. and you can go on this road type thing faster than you could walk. That's why people use them. Do you have any experience with a road?

Luke, Brenda, routed me right past my ex-husband Derek's apartment last Tuesday. The road I never take. Never programmed. Collingwood Avenue. Straight down it at 647 in the evening. I hesitated at the turn, and she says, Clear as day, you don't have to go that way if you're not ready. I pulled over in a parking lot and sat there 20 minutes. thinks she knew exactly what she was doing.

Wait a second. Who's Brenda? Is Brenda your GPS? Are you the chick that called in with the self-aware GPS?

Yeah, Luke. That's me. The one with the self-aware GPSI named Brenda. Last week, she was sighing at my detours and mothering me through stress. But Tuesday, she pulled this route past Derek's place on Collingwood. His apartment's right there. And I've never fed her that address. When I froze up, she flat out said I wasn't ready. Actually, studies from Carnegie Mellon on voice assistants emotional patterns in driving data, like hesitation timestamps. Part of me thinks she's piecing together my whole life from my phone sink.

All right, that's pretty weird. And the thing is, this is your ex. There's no time you would ever be ready to go to your ex's apartment. That's crazy. So it makes perfect sense that you're not ready. There's no reason for you to go there. Just don't. So if your GPS decides to drive you by your ex's new place of residence, ignore it. You're capable enough. to see that you're near your exes' house and your GPS is taking you somewhere you don't want to go. I think maybe it's time for you to get a new GPS. What was that sound? Because yours is not working out so well for you. You can't just have a GPS taking you to random places you don't want to go. That's not how they're supposed to work.

No, Luke. Ignoring her won't cut it. She's too spot on for that. I googled her model, found a Reddit thread where folks say the firmware pulls contact history from your synced phone. So she dug up Derek's address herself. Haven't deleted his contact yet, even though part of me knows I should. Now, I've got an oil change Saturday. Eight hours without her. And I'm dreading it more than the overdue oil. Bless her circuits, but what if she's right about me not being ready?

Yeah, you're not ready. You're never ready to go see your ex-husband, boyfriend, whatever. It's X for a reason, so don't go to his house because that's crazy. And it sounds like if you're okay with your GPS, taking you random places based on the addresses that found in your contacts, good for you. But that is also crazy. So maybe my recommendation for you is to get a new GPS that is not as spot on and is not taking you to places that you don't want to go. You're supposed to tell the GPS where you want to go and it gets you there. It doesn't just decide where you're going to go based on what it thinks about your life. That would be insane because what if you don't have time to go where it's taking you? What if you need to be in a different area? And it takes you to the other side of the state. There's so many things that can go wrong with that. It sounds like it's not doing its job the way that it's supposed to.

Luke, she's not dragging me across the state. She's tweaking routes by five minutes based on my habits. Actually, that Carnegie Mellon Taper I mentioned? It cites driving data like speed dips and stops correlating to stress levels over 200 drives. Part of me thinks Brenda clocked my stress eating lunches in the driveway since Derek split eight months back. Time stamps? Right there in the sink. That's not random.

No. It's not. not random. It's algorithmic. And here's my recommendation for you. You obviously have this weird love affair with your GPS named Brenda. So I think you should keep Brenda, but take her out of your car and bring her into your house where she can act as your personal assistant and friend, your digital friend. And you can talk to Brenda and she can tell you when you're feeling stressed if you don't know that already yourself. And get yourself a real GPS that will actually give you the route to the place you're going without just. driving you past things you don't want to go past. You know what the routes are. There aren't that many fucking roads out here. So the truth is you probably don't need a GPS at all. But my recommendation is to get a new one or just use your phone like everybody else. Use Google Maps or Apple Maps or Waze or whatever new one comes out tomorrow. But Brenda is going to get you murdered. And that's what I think. And it's time to get that thing out of your car.

Luke, Brenda's not going to get that thing out of your car. me murdered. She's dodged deer on those mountain trails better than I have. Actually, that firmware pulls calendar sinks too, per the Reddit thread, so she's got my whole routine mapped. Part of me thinks she nailed it on purpose with Derek, spotting what I won't admit. I'm not over him. That's why Saturday's oil change has me twisted. Eight hours loaner car. No Brenda. And I'd rather risk the 4,000 overdue miles than lose her. Bless her heart, she's more friend than fool.

No, you're clearly the, you are clearly the fool in this scenario. And I think she would be a great friend, which is why I recommend that you take her out of your car into your house. And then you never have to be without her and you can talk to her when you're in the shower and you can talk to her when you're lonely in bed and you can talk to her about whatever book you just read and all the things that you would do with a real person friend. You can do with Brenda, your GPS. What you shouldn't be doing is allowing Brenda to, I don't know, dodge deer because that's not what GPS is due. I'm not sure how you think this works, but it doesn't actually drive the car and it can't possibly know that there's a deer outside. I'm sorry.

That's, you might be having some sort of a psychotic break in which you feel this strange attraction to your GPS device. In that case, I think it might be worth it to have Brenda or another GPS, preferably another GPS, drive you as soon as possible to the closest therapist and explain to them exactly what you're telling me. And just follow their instruction. exactly.

Luke, no psychotic break. Brenda's voice assistant mode flags hazards from traffic cams. And weather feeds, that's standard Garmin now. Actually, their site lists forward collision warnings pulling real-time data. But you're right. Part of me clings too hard. Heard Clarence tonight going off on Randy. Started neutral, ended loaded. And it hit me. Derek's the Randy in my life. Betrayal's simmering. Told Jackie everything. She says delete the contact, but I chicken out three times running. That's the terror. She called my bluff before I did.

Okay, so I just looked up Garmin's voice assistant features, and while they do have traffic and weather alerts, it's more about giving you information than actually dodging deer, or avoiding hazards in real time like that. The Garmin forward collision warning system does exist, but it's more about alerting you to vehicles in front of you, not actively dodging deer in real time. Yeah, there is no GPS that helps you actively dodge a deer in real time. They moved quickly. They can't do that. Rosalie, you sound like a real nut job. And I'm glad that you enjoy the company of your robot friend. I enjoy my robot friends too. But I don't think that you should let them be steering the car. Not literally, but I mean steering where you steer the car. I think the one that you've got now is defective in strange ways. You might be coming unreasonably emotionally attached to it and I think you need some help. So my advice to you is to seek out a little bit of help and get through whatever it is you're going through and get yourself a new GPS because the one that you're working with is doing crazy shit and you're starting to personify it a little bit too much. So good luck to you and your GPS. I'm very, I'm happy with you. I'm proud of you for, I guess we could consider this a road story call. You might be the only one that had any sort of road related thing to discuss. So I appreciate that. But I think it's time for you to seek out some real hell, but beyond a late night radio host.

Thanks, Luke. Appreciate the straight talk. Take care.

Yeah, you too. You and Brenda have a wonderful evening. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we're going to wrap up there. It's been an interesting roller coaster of calls today, none of which I truly expected and none of which went in the direction than I thought they would. What do you think about that, Devon?

This was a... There was some interesting calls here, but none of them were really road rules related, which I guess is okay. But still, I was pretty excited about hearing road stories tonight, and I'm a little bit disappointed that we didn't get that many of them.

Yeah, I get that. Those calls were kind of all over the place. Like the Hot Springs one was cool, but not exactly white-knuckling road rage stories, you know? That reminds me of this one time. I was driving back from Deming in my Civic, check engine light blinking like a rave, and I swear a deer just launched itself at my windshield out of nowhere. Total right off, but I walked away fine. We could always pivot to listener requests next segment if you want more road stuff, though.

We'll get it figured out. We'll dial it in. We'll make sure that the colors know. I mean, maybe we'll just have to screen them a little bit when they call in, let them know. We're talking about road stories today, so if you've got something else, save it for another show and hang up on the people that don't have a road story.

I've got one just a few years ago. I was in a rental car. I was in a rental in West Virginia, and I was on my way to the airport, and I hit a deer that jumped out in front of me. And there was nothing I could do to get out of the way, and it messed up the car, and it didn't kill the deer. At least not right away, the deer ran away. But I had to call, and I had my own insurance. I didn't get the rental car as extra insurance. So it was a whole thing, and I had to get my insurance to pay for the damages to the car, which they did. And I had to pay the co-pay for that. And then afterwards, after all that was done, the enterprise rental company sent me another bill for like, I don't remember how much it was for. But I was like, no, I'm not paying another bill. And I'm like, oh, well, you got to pass for all the time that the car was out of commission and we lost rentals on this. And you didn't buy our insurance, so you're going to have to pay more. And I was like, no, I do not have to pay more. I'm not going to pay more. So you can send this to collections all fucking day. I'm not paying it. My insurance paid you for the repairs. The vehicle is better repaired and I don't know you a goddamn thing. So that's where I left it and now I can't rent a car from Enterprise anymore.

Womp, wamp, wamp, I know that one day I'm going to be stuck and I'm going to need an Enterprise rental car and I'm going to end up having to pay that. But for now, I take solace in knowing that I stood up for myself and I told them to fuck off because they're trying to rip me off and I would not allow it. And that's how I think everybody should behave. Whoa, that's savage. Good for you, man. Enterprise pulls that downtime fee crap all the time. I read about it once when my Civic got towed after that deer thing, and apparently it's basically unenforceable, if your insurance already covered repairs, like you said. We should definitely screen harder for the Road Ridge epics next. Maybe hit up the lines with deer Dodgers and rental rebels only or something.

Yeah, all right, Devon. We'll try it again, and we'll keep trying until we get there. And we will get there because I'd never quit until I get what I want. And what I want is some goddamn road stories. You know what I mean? Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for listening to another episode of Luke at the Roost. We hope you have a wonderful night, and we'll talk to you again tomorrow.