Me, the Jungle and a Hard Folding Tonneau Cover

The sun is hot. I think it is around 100 degrees. No clouds in the sky, just a few eagles that seem to search for feed during their long flights over the huge trees. I hear a noise, loud, screaming, the voice filled with desperation and hopelessness. Some ants and spiders are creeping along my feet, increasing my desire to escape this place. But there is no way to get away from here. There are no signs, no streets, and no marks that let me know where I am or where I have to go. This feeling is not short termed and the duration is not determined. It is just certain that I won’t survive when nothing will change within the next couple of weeks. My name is John and my home is the jungle of Ecuador.

Before I came here I was a broker in Washington and my impact on the world around me was huge. I was the owner of the most influential law firm in the city and everyone knew the name John Smith. On Saturdays, I was dining with the president, not the one of the golf club or so, but of the United States. I had more than ten moles in the oval office that took care that I and my partners were informed about each detail, political as well as interpersonal. There were moments where I really thought that I am the most powerful man on earth - and probably I was.

But a life like this brings few friends, if any at all. The number of my enemies was greater than the population of Luxembourg. But Luxembourg is not just the basis for this comparison; it is also the beginning of my demise. I was traveling to this small country near France and Germany because I wanted to open a few bank accounts to save my money from all the vultures around me. I knew it was not right, but only because of the laws and not because of the moral. I was the man who deserved all this money so there were no reasons to give others a slice of the pie – my pie. Unfortunately, there were many people who disagreed with me after finding out what I did in Europe. Especially, my two partners of the lawyer firm, who were very mad with me and hired a few guys to penalize me for my unfaithful actions.

After I recognized this kind of danger, I had no clue what to do. It seemed that my so-called partners had informed everyone in Washington about my misbehavior and suddenly all my contacts were gone, as well as my power and impact. I felt really scared afterwards and I decided to leave the country as soon as possible. So I ended up here in the jungle of South America and now I have been living here for three months. But I am not used to living in this area, where I have to catch my food and the water sources flow from the rivers of the Amazon. I am so tired of this kind of life and each day I get more exhausted.

Right now I am walking through the jungle searching for a few things to eat. But what is this? “Hey, hey! Who is there? I need some help. Please help me!” I think he has seen me. It’s a man sitting in a truck. He returns, and asks me, “Hey dude, what are you doing here? Can I take you with me?”
“Of course, but where I can store all my stuff?”
“Don’t you see the truck bed. There you can put your things and the folding tonno cover will safe them from the animals around us.”

I am now sitting in the truck and thinking about what I will do. I won’t come back to the jungle and I cannot go back to Washington. So maybe I will move to Europe. Hopefully I will find someone over there who can save me from the danger like the tonno cover saved my stuff.