6/15/10

This job does provide me with a steady income and the opportunity for a seemingly endless variety of daily experiences.  At a more fundamental level though, I think it's mainly just one long psychology experiment.  I'm not sure where or when we'll get the answers to the deeper questions as they relate to me personally (Running from something or chasing something? Who knows?), but there seems to be no shortage of smaller observations to make along the way.  For instance - a nice and easy four-hour drive, along a nice and easy route, amidst nice and easy traffic, on a bright and sunny day, can seem like a long and arduous task when you have your mind on a fridge full of beer and a seat on your comfy couch.  Short-timer's disease is starting to take hold.

Another of today's observations would involve a CTL colleague of mine.  Since I have a ton of extra time on this run and I've been idling all day and night to stay cool lately, I've been cruising along at 60-62mph and trying to save a little fuel.  My MPG has begun to inch upward a little and there hasn't been a follow-up to my original reprimand, so I might as well try to continue the trend and stay out of the doghouse for a while.  Anyhow, I was kicking it in the right lane and listening to an endless stream of shitty songs on XM Radio when I saw a red Kenworth approaching rapidly from behind me, passing a couple of other slow trucks along the way.  My comrade clearly was driving at his maximum 65mph.  Then, when he got close behind me, he slowed down and stayed there.  Mile after mile after mile after mile.  He never did go around.  I pulled off and stopped for a break at some point, after which I assume that the dude went back to driving at 65mph.

I'm not sure which way we go in terms of analysis here.  I can only muster a guess as to why he didn't pass me.  We get satellite messages at least once a week, bitching about the price of fuel and asking us to drive more slowly.  Perhaps my colleague thought that I was some sort of goody-two-shoes driver and he shouldn't zip on by.  Honestly, I'm not all that concerned with the bosses' and shareholders' bottom lines, especially as long as they continue to dick me out of my 401(k) matching funds.  All I keep hearing is how they did such an awesome job of navigating the economic crisis, yet my income has gone down and my $1,800 annual 401(k) giveback hasn't been restored, so they can kiss my ass when it comes to dollars and cents.  If they go out of business, I can go somewhere else.  So no, I'm just looking out for #1 and trying to keep the safety people off my back.  But maybe this guy thought I would be inclined to say something to somebody.  I don't know.

The notion that one driver would be concerned with what another driver might say would seem bizarre to me, if only I didn't actually work here.  My ~2,700 fellow drivers include at least a thousand major assholes.  Case in point - shortly after I started this job, I heard from another guy who had been at Crowder College when I was there.  He had kept in touch with a few of our classmates after we each went our separate ways.  One of those classmates had pulled forward into a parking pace and grazed the trailer of the truck in the space next to him.  He and the 'victim,' as it were, got out and took a look.  Nothing really to report.  The other guy's hinges had been shined up a little and my classmate's trailer hadn't suffered any damage that was visible through the numerous nicks and scrapes that were already on it.  They shook hands.  No harm, no foul.  No need to pursue the matter any further.  Another CFI driver came walking over from across the lot and said that he would be calling to report the incident if my unfortunate classmate didn't do so himself.  For realsies.  (The account was later corroborated by another guy who was at the same truck stop that day.)

So yeah, maybe today's timid fella thought that I was one of those guys or something.  I haven't been able to come up with any other logical explanation.  As far as I understand it though, there's not an actual policy saying that we can't drive 65mph if we feel like it.  We'll just get in trouble if our fuel mileage gets too poor.  Our driving speed is only one factor in that equation.  Whatever.  I don't know.  (It was a boring day today and there's not much to talk about, as you can see.)

I've stopped at the truck stop in Canadys, South Carolina and parked for the night.  Tomorrow's delivery is in the suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina, so I'm guessing that I'll have a few hours of driving left to go from here.  Then I get to send in my home time request and let the clock watching begin in earnest.

Guess who gets to have an Italian BMT with double meat for dinner.  Ahh yes, every guy loves a good sandwich...