4/5/10

1 down, 161 to go, mofos!  The first undefeated season in MLB history is upon us... or something.  Now if the Redskins hadn't gone and harshed my mellow with that McNabb acquisition, I could have been a happy sports fan for at least a couple of days.

I had a pretty easy day today, all things considered, and I managed to find a new metaphor for the people in Joplin.  They're like the parents of an old girlfriend of mine.  We'll get to that in a minute.  The quick hop down to my consignee in Cincinnati was nice and easy.  Just as the traffic started to get heavy, I reached my exit.  Gotta love delivering on the north end of town when you come in from the north.  Unfortunately though, there were four trucks (three of them from my company) ahead of me.  Win some, lose some.

After a couple of hours I was empty and found myself at #4 on the board.  Using my wicked awesome detective skills, I took this to mean that the first dude still hadn't received an assignment, so I might as well drive back to the north and find somewhere to park.  Chances were that I would have to turn around and head back southward for my next pickup but there aren't really any good options in Cincinnati.  I ducked into the rest area just south of Monroe and found that I was still #4, then headed inside to take care of business.  Why in the hell do they wire those auto-flush toilets on such a hair trigger, anyway?  Splashing my ass every time I exhale.  Ridiculous.  (For your own sake, don't try to picture that.)  By the time I got back out to my truck, I was up to #1.  A short time later I had a new assignment... picking up back on the northern end of Cincinnati.  Story of life.

After getting back on the highway northbound and making a (mostly legal) flip at the next exit, I headed down to my shipper in Fairfield.  Another driver had arrived just before me and found that his trailer wasn't yet ready, so his drop/hook was turned into a live load.  Mine, on the other hand, was ready to rumble.  And only 20,000 pounds to boot.  Compared to the majority of loads that I've pulled lately, this trailer feels positively dainty.  I sent in my loaded call, got my dispatch, and headed westward.  Going to Arizona.  For a Sunday morning delivery.  It's not very often that an entire week's miles come in one day, but that's that.  By the time I make my delivery we'll be into the next pay week.

I got a satellite message as I left Ohio, lecturing me about my "below standard" fuel mileage so far this year.  I assume that this stuff is automatically generated so I didn't bother trying to figure out whether or not I should tell anyone to kiss my ass.  Coming out of the winter every year, the MPG doesn't look so great.  Then, every spring, the weather moderates and there's less need to idle the truck.  Then the hot months require the A/C for sleep every now and then, so the idling ticks back up.  Then, every autumn, it starts to improve again.  Truck Driving 101 - Intro to Basic Shit That Everybody Knows.  Since we're coming off the least globally warmed winter in recent memory and my batteries last less than an hour with the bunk heater running, my MPG is what it is.  In point of fact, I just looked at the web portal and I see that I'm about even with where I was at this point last year.  I ended last year at 6.33 MPG.  As far as I know, this was acceptable.  So yeah.  Whatever.

Across I-74, around Indy, and onto I-70.  This brings us to the day's metaphor.  The aforementioned old girlfriend would call me at work every now and then and tell me that her parents wanted to take us to dinner.  Truth be told, I found her parents to be rather annoying and I really didn't have anything to say to them.  But their favorite restaurant happened to be a place where I could get a nice plate of gnocchi with just the right amount of garlic.  And, by not pissing off the lass, I could generally count on that other stuff that chicks know how to do.  So, even though I didn't want to go, I didn't mind all that much.

The whole Joplin experience, to me, is annoying.  I really don't like stopping there and I have nothing to say to those people.  But Joplin happens to be a place with a repair shop, where I can get my air conditioning fixed before I head down to the desert.  I'm pretty sure there's nobody there with whom I would like to sleep, but maybe I can at least get my gold ring as a viable substitute for the other part of the metaphor.  Since I have a ton of time on this run, I probably won't mind spending a night in Joplin all that much.

By the time I got to Brazil, Indiana, I was getting hungry.  I decided to duck into the truck stop for some dinner and a shower and then realized that the ballgame was coming on and I didn't feel like driving anymore.  So that was the end of my day.  I may have already mentioned this, but I have a ton of time on this run.  Six days to cover somewhere between 1,800 and 1,900 miles.  Screw it.  No need to go any further when I'm bored and uninterested.  Tomorrow's route ends in Joplin, where parking will be a non-issue, so it doesn't matter how late I get there.  This means no alarm clock, which is something that we always know will put a smile on my face.  And the hailstorm that just blew through has lowered the temperature substantially, also putting a smile on my face.

162 wins in a row, man.  I have a feeling.

And then there's this guy.


Heh.