8/15/08

What's up with the people of Massachusetts today? They're usually a cranky bunch of bastards up there. Not today though. From the guy at McDonald's to the receiver at my customer to the truck driver parked next to me there to... well, everyone really (even the cops directing traffic)... they all seemed to be in a pleasant mood today. I even saw a few skirts that have me reconsidering my long-held lack of attraction to Irish girls.

My trip this morning was quick and easy. The guy at the dock apologized for taking a while on account of being shorthanded. Honestly though, they got me empty more quickly than a lot of places do. Once I pulled around the corner and parked, I cranked up the A/C and crawled into bed. Head hits pillow --> load is assigned. Last night was the second night in a row that I slept well and today was the second day in a row that I was tired. Whatever. I went to leave the same way that I came. Nope. Road closed. The officer directing traffic told me how to get back to the highway and all was well.

On to Clinton for some cereal headed to North Carolina. We've seen this movie before. I was scheduled for 7pm. I had time to get there before 7pm, but not if I took a break first. So I headed straight there. Holy mother of all detours! That first detour in Agawam was a piece of cake. The one in Clinton was Super Trucker material. The officer directing traffic made it sound quick and easy. No. It was not quick and easy. Picture a neighborhood in your local community where the streets are a little tight for someone driving an SUV. Now throw in a few monstrous hills and intersections at weird angles. Just for kicks, add some churches and schools and shit. Yep, that's the one. There's a bridge right before the street on which the shipper is located. That bridge is closed for construction, so I got to cruise through the neighborhood. Given the terrain, we're not talking 'down one more block and turn left.' It was a pretty crazy route. Ce n'est pas bon, as our newest Neville Chamberlain wannabe would say.

I got there. This time my trailer was loaded and ready. This meant that I could head down the road today instead of taking a break at the shipper. Groovy. I asked the shipping guy if there was a better way out of town, on account of how badly that detour sucked balls. He gave me a route through town and out to the west. That worked okay... or did it? Yeah, actually the directions were fine. It was a pretty tight squeeze in some spots but nothing terrible. There was however, as we say from time to time, a twist.

And now, for the latest installment of You Can't Make This Shit Up...

I turned onto the access road for I-190 and checked my mirrors as I tend to do. I caught a glimpse of my trailer number, as I tend to do. I don't normally pay attention to the numbers once I'm rolling, but something made me look again. It didn't exactly look wrong, but something didn't seem right either. Observe here, the trailer that I was pulling.
So I took a peek at my paperwork, just to be sure. Doh! Observe now, the trailer that I am currently pulling. What are the odds, seriously?

Hey, what's wrong with backtracking ten miles and snaking your way through a little town again when you're having fun, right? My first confirmed case of dyslexia, I guess.

So I headed out, again. Back through Clinton, again. When I got down to I-90, it was a parking lot. No big surprise there on a Friday afternoon. The toll booths to I-84 tend to back up all the way to Worcester. At least I got to pass a few million people who were waiting to pay, once I got to the exit. No lines for the EZPass lane. I made it through Hartford and decided that I have no desire to tackle the Bronx today. I started out tired as it is. By the time I got through there, my patience would be just about gone and parking wouldn't be too plentiful, so I've ducked off in Connecticut for the night.

This load delivers at 6am Monday. I'll knock out half tomorrow and the rest on Sunday. I already know that I can park at the consignee so, grumpy security guards notwithstanding, I'm set up pretty well. My first week back to work wraps up at a tidy 3,044 miles plus $35 in stop pay and $59 in northeast pay. Better than a kick in the balls.