8/7/07

"Patience is the companion of wisdom." - St. Augustine

I'm always trying to learn to be more patient, and I do okay, but today was another tester. I got hoodwinked by the Idle-Aire chick into signing up for the service last night. She was a flirty little thing and I didn't feel like arguing for my right to park without paying, so I gave in. Eventually though I wound up with a good evening away from the truckstop, along with a little TLC. I had almost forgotten what that was like. So, as you can imagine, I woke up today feeling like a stud, ready to take on the world. But the world wasn't ready for me, apparently.

I headed over to the Pepsi plant in Denver. My directions took me to the corner of 38th and Brighton. There's a guard shack. There's a gate. There are some trucks. Okay, here we go. The smartass remark from the security guard seemed like an unnecessary way to direct me to the other side of the plant, but whatever. I had to go in, turn around, and drive around the block. Go in - check. Turn around - check. Then wait... It took fifteen minutes for everyone to get through the gate and I was at the back of the line.

On to the other side, and wait... Three trucks ahead of me checking in. Now my turn. "Turn your CB to channel 30 and we'll call you when you have a door." I don't have a CB, so I gave her my cell #. The more I do this 'no CB' thing, the more I like it. Instead of listening to static for four hours (yeah, you read that right, four hours) while I waited for a door, I just chilled out and waited for a phone call. And waited, and waited... Four hours later (didn't know if I mentioned how long I waited) I decided to lay down and take a nap. The head hits the pillow, the phone rings. Uncanny in their timing sometimes.

Back to the other side of the plant where I was earlier in the day. Backed into the dock, dodging traffic and parked vehicles as I got set up, but didn't hit anything. That's always good. Squared away, set the brakes, and wait...

Two hours at the dock, waiting, then ready to roll. Get to the gate, and wait... The security guard couldn't figure out if the freight matched the bills, so she held me for a half hour. Then, into Denver rush hour, and wait... Very little movement for about twenty miles. Then to the south and into the rain, and wait... People driving 35mph on the freeway.

Okay, rain's cleared up, speed limit 75, here we go! Yeah, 75 my ass. It's only 75 if you don't get stuck behind some 80-year-old douchebag who thinks it's his constitutional right to hold up traffic on the interstate at 45mph. I was too heavy to accelerate into the left lane, so I just had to grin and bear it. Twenty miles later, old man river finds his exit and we're ready to roll. Wait a minute. Why are they stopping, why are they stopping, why are they stopping? Aww, construction, how nice.

So yeah, long day leaving Colorado. And the reward for the hassle was a long night of dragging 45,000 pounds up and down mountains and through the Godforsaken wilderness until 3am. This run can basically kiss my ass. I could seriously use either a 12 pack or another round with that chick in Denver right about now.

But, they say tomorrow is another day.