2/13/10

Well, at least I earned enough money to pay for my dinner this evening. Truck driving? Oh, no no no. There was none of that. I took part in a live online focus group about shopping. I spent ten minutes checking the box that said "very unimportant" and my work was done. Ten bucks. More than I can say for my actual job.

Some of the longtime readers of this blog may recall that last February was a record-setting month in a couple of ways. Maybe some less than perfect parallels can be drawn here. This year, in the first week of February, I didn't manage to eclipse the $1629.68 from last year. I did have a very busy week though. And, in keeping with the imperfection of the parallel, we haven't reached the last week of the month yet. This week, however, I managed to have my worst... week... evah! (I know some of you are a little slow on the uptake, so yeah, I'm still sitting at the McDonald's in San Marcos.) In the pay week that will end in a couple of hours, I managed to jam out 1,264 miles plus $35 for the extra drop on that last load. Gross pay - $515.32. A record-breaking week in all the wrong ways. To add to this week's distinction, I'll note that my worst previous week involved a guy hitting my truck and costing me two days of work. Nothing like that happened this week, although I suppose that I did burn up a couple of days finishing off last week's miles.

Anyhow, yeah, no assignment today. I'm certainly more annoyed than I was at this point last night, but probably less annoyed than I'll be tomorrow morning when I get an assignment just before our asinine layover system kicks in. Gotta sit for 48 hours to collect the cash, so I fully expect to get moving in hour #47.

I must say though, all things considered, this hasn't been a bad place to kick back for a while. I've seen no indication that the McDonald's people are even aware of my presence. There are a variety of dining options within a quarter-mile. There's a convenience store across the street where my Swedish buddy may or may not find something to help him sleep tonight. The sky was sunny and the temperature must have approached 70° today. I got three more audiobooks onto CD's, watched a couple of movies, and read a couple of short stories. In terms of my vocation, this weekend clearly was a royal screwjob. In terms of my personal enjoyment, not so bad. Probably not gonna wake with a little Valentine señorita next to me tomorrow though. That would be the perfect conclusion to an otherwise wasted weekend, I think.

I'll probably get moving tomorrow morning, if only for the fact that those degenerates who pull the strings will lose more money by letting me sit another day. The odd thing is that, after sitting around and relaxing as I have, I feel like I could run for another few weeks with no trouble. I've told some friends that I'll try to get home soon though. Believe it or not, there are a few people who seem to notice when I haven't been around for a while. (I know. I don't get it either.) So I'll get the distinct 'double whammy' effect of a horseshit paycheck next Friday followed up by a horseshit paycheck for whatever week includes my next round of home time. Guess I'm not retiring this month.

2/12/10

Well, they didn't send me back up to Waco for another regional load. And, uh, they didn't send me to Laredo for tires or anything like that. And, uh, hmm, actually they didn't send me anywhere. How 'bout them apples?

After a quick unloading this morning in La Grange, I made the easy drive over to San Marcos. The loading dock at that stop was a little tricky to access, but this is what I do for a living and all. Once I was empty, I pulled off to the side of the alley to see what would come next. After an hour or so, seeing that nothing was forthcoming, I fell back on a little bit of local knowledge.

Believe it or not, I am not a big fan of I-35 in Austin. So, whenever I manage to fight my way through there en route to Laredo, I often feel the need to get off the road for a little while and let my frustration subside before taking on San Antonio. The standard Fenian Godfather playbook involves a break at the McDonald's in San Marcos. They have a few truck parking spaces and there usually aren't any other trucks around. As luck would have it, today's second delivery took place right down the street from that McDonald's. So I scooted over and had some lunch.

Since I was #1 on the board, I didn't think that I would be waiting much longer. After taking a nice long nap and burning some new audiobooks onto CD's, I still had not received a new assignment and it was time for dinner. As the night wore on and I never moved from #1 on the board, I started to suspect that I'm #1 in a nominal sense but probably behind a bunch of people in Laredo in a practical sense. Or maybe there's just no freight. I don't know.

I can't say that I was terribly broken up about having what amounted to a day off. I think it has been around six weeks since I left home and there have been some pretty busy stretches, so a chance to recharge the batteries isn't so bad. If I'm still sitting here tomorrow, maybe the discussion will be a little different. For now though, just kickin' it in San Marcos. I've been here for ten hours, so at least I'm legal to drive to a new hiding place if they decide to kick me out.

2/11/10

When Nancy Pelosi said that I was unpatriotic last year, it didn't bother me. After all, I think she's certifiably insane. And when Harry Reid said that I was unpatriotic, it didn't bother me. After all, I don't think he's smart enough to tie his own shoes. And when David Axelrod said that I was unpatriotic, I didn't bat an eye. After all, I think he's merely spending a few years trying to destroy the earth before returning to the netherworld. I take any insult, coming from that trio, as a compliment. But Bill Nye, the science guy? Say it ain't so. The guy who taught me how to crush a gas can with a drop of water? Now it is I whom you have crushed, Mr. non-climatologist. Now it is I.



Speaking of the weather, it pretty much sucks this year, doesn't it? Good grief, man. Every freaking day. The silver lining for today, to whatever extent there is one, is that I got to head southward instead of northward. As badly as Texans drive in the rain, I don't think I would like to share the road with them in the snow.

I had my alarm set to go off at 7:45am local time, exactly ten hours after I finished working last night. At 7:30am I received a satellite message from my fleet manager, asking when I would be back on duty. Story of life. So I put myself on the board and sent a note saying that I needed to stay put for another fifteen minutes. I was #7 on the board though, so the fifteen minutes turned out to be a non-issue.

At some point later in the morning I received my new assignment. Not surprisingly, I was picking up at the same distribution center where I delivered the previous load. My pickup time was set for 5pm, so I stayed at the truck stop until around 1pm and then headed over. The loads at that place are usually ready early and I was hoping to get in and out quickly. This time I got to hang around in the waiting room and listen to bullshit trucker stories for an hour or so, but I still was off and running before 5pm. Not too bad.

As tends to be the case when one ends up in this vortex of Texas regional freight, I got a whopping 139 miles for today. Not exactly a big money maker, but at least it wasn't 139 miles in the other direction. I hopped on US-77 out of Waco and ran it down to the consignee in La Grange, where I find myself parked for the evening. I was pleasantly surprised to find that US-77 was fairly open and uncongested, even in the rain. Compared to that driveway to Hell that can be found a few miles to the west, today's route was a beauty.

After I get unloaded here in the morning, I'll have a short hop over to San Marcos to make my second delivery. After that the odds would suggest that they'll probably run me back up to Waco to do it all again tomorrow. No sign just yet that I'm headed to Laredo for new tires, but we'll see how the weekend plays out. Maybe they have something up their sleeves or maybe that road service guy was full of shit when he said he was flagging my truck for repairs. I've learned not to be terribly surprised either way. It would be kinda cool to get the tire thing resolved soon so that I can start working my way toward home though. I don't have a specific date in mind but I would like to take a few days off before the month is through.

Bill Nye? Damn.

2/10/10

I knew that yesterday's favorable dispatch had to be a sign of some sort, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. Then, today, I heard a report on the radio about the home of some of the world's worst people. And it occurred to me - Hell has frozen over.


That explains that.

I did manage to doze off early last night, so that was nice. Then I was up for a while early in the morning. Then back to bed for a couple more hours. Finally, feeling like my jolly old self again, I proceeded to hit the road... right in the middle of Memphis' morning rush. Damn. Didn't think about that part. Once I got into Arkansas though, everything went smoothly. I made a quick stop at our terminal in West Memphis for some 'go juice,' as the pros like to call it, and then broke the rest of the drive into segments.

I drove to Gurdon and stopped for an hour. Then I drove into Texas and stopped in Royse City for an hour. The plan, to whatever extent there was a plan, was to let the traffic in Dallas work itself out before I got there. I was hoping to avoid a repeat of the Memphis situation. My timing was pretty good in that respect. There's always traffic around Dallas, of course, but it was light enough that I didn't get slowed down too much.

After arriving at my consignee, I made a nice and easy drop and then drove over to look for my "suggested" empty. They always send a message telling us which trailer has been at the customer for the longest time, ostensibly to keep all of the trailers moving to some extent. The last time I followed the suggestion, it didn't go so well. I haven't refined the theory yet, but I tend to think that the trailers that are at a customer's location for the longest time are there for a reason - namely that some of my coworkers prefer to leave the problematic equipment for the next driver. Then the next driver leaves it, then the next one, and so on. The computer system keeps telling someone to take the faulty trailer and the faulty trailer keeps getting left behind.

This time around I got a pretty decent trailer. It was missing one of the rubber seals on the gladhand for the air lines though. I usually carry a handful of those with me, on account of the fact that I'm always getting trailers with bad seals, but tonight it seems that I was all out. So I had to steal one from the trailer next to mine. And now, when the next guy shows up to take that one, I will have been part of the cycle described in the previous paragraph. Someone left me a problem and I passed it on to the next driver... Oh well, I really did intend to handle it on my own. Just ran out of rubbers. Err... nevermind.

The directions to my consignee said in big bold letters that they don't allow overnight parking. I don't know if that's accurate or not, but if so then it's really stupid. They have a massive yard and 90% of the trailers in the yard are ours. It wouldn't hurt anyone for us to hook to an empty and go to bed. The 'no parking' deal is particularly annoying on account of the fact that my next load will almost certainly be picking up at the same place. I hung around for 45 minutes after hooking to my empty, hoping to get my next assignment and take it from there. I started at #2 and, after the 45 minutes, I was still #2.

Not wanting to wake in the middle of the night to someone banging on the door and kicking me out of the yard, I left and drove three miles to the Pilot in Robinson. Given that it was late at night, I fully expected to find a full lot and then proceed further down I-35 to the little truck stop in Eddy. Much to my surprise, I found a nice easy parking space along the back row at the Pilot. Hell has indeed frozen over.

My 14 hour clock was just about gone so I went ahead and took myself off the board for the night, just in case they're tempted to try any dispatching shenanigans. Since I'm theoretically still at the customer in Waco, as far as the computer system is concerned, they could send me an assignment picking up at the same place without breaking any laws. I'm not about to give up my cozy parking space and drive over there, only to have to come right back and find that my luck has run out. I'll just get back on the board after ten hours and see what follows next.

An interesting side note: The people begging for money at truck stops almost invariably tell some sort of story about how they need gas money for one reason or another. I tell them (quite honestly, in fact) that I don't carry cash when I'm on the road. I used to pay for everything with my American Express card. Then, after they unceremoniously dumped me, I started paying for everything with my debit card. Anyhow, I always have a little money in the bank and I've run out of gas before, so I'm certainly not above helping someone out. It's a fairly safe assumption that anyone knocking on doors at a truck stop is full of shit, but you never know. So, after explaining that I don't carry cash, I usually offer to walk over to the gas pump and put ten bucks on my card. Probably fifty times over the last few years. Not a single taker. Yeah, it happened again tonight. That's why you got this little bonus commentary. I guess there's no real significance to it, but I find it intriguing.

2/9/10

"I'm glad I got here before it started snowing." I recall thinking that as one of my colleagues rolled into the lot where I was parked last night. He went down to the end where the docks were and then tried to turn back around toward the area where I was parked. In the process of turning, he got stuck. It took some work for him to get moving again, but I was settled snugly into my space before all of the climate change began.

Then, this morning, I had the misfortune of being the first to get unloaded. The area where my colleague had experienced his difficulty was the same area where I would have to maneuver in order to get backed into the dock. Yeah, that didn't work out too swell. As long as I got a running start from the side and made a 90° swing without stepping on the brakes, I could roll back toward the building for the most part. The trouble was that I couldn't steer the trailer. The ass end of my truck went whichever way it felt like going. Through the course of my numerous attempts, my truck never seemed to feel like going the same way twice, so it was sort of like rolling a pair of dice and hoping for a twelve.

After around ten minutes of futility, I saw a guy come driving in with a tractor that was fitted with a scraper attachment. He gave the area in front of the docks a thorough scrubbing and then told me to try again. Unfortunately, his scraper hadn't removed all of the ice that was under the snow. Some of it was gone though and eventually I got back to the dock. Only problem - I wasn't anywhere near perpendicular. I couldn't see the lines on the ground, on account of their being buried by snow. (The tractor guy hadn't touched this part.) As I started to slide back into the dock, I thought that I was still somewhat squared away. I was wrong.

So I got to pull back forward into the icy area and give it another go. After getting stuck a few more times, I managed to get backed in well enough for the locking mechanism on the loading dock to engage my trailer. Good enough. I was unloaded quickly and sent on my way.

When I received my pre-planned assignment last night, it said that I would be picking up in Campbell, Kentucky. Of course, there is no Campbell, Kentucky. There's a Campbellsburg and a Campbellsville, but no Campbell. That's one of the groovy things about our state-of-the-art dispatching software. It allows for up to eight characters in the 'city' field. So, until I confirmed the actual assignment this morning, I wasn't sure exactly where I would be picking up next. Both cities are 900-something miles from Waco and neither is exactly as far as my paid mileage suggests, so I was relieved to see that I was picking up in Campbellsville today. Campbellsburg is further to the north and the thought of cruising through those hills in the snow was rather unappealing to me.

As I drove onto the main highway out of Nicholasville, I found that the roads weren't nearly as bad as the customer's parking lot had been. The temperature was in the mid 30's and the snow had been turned to mush by the light rain that was falling. All in all, not bad. After a break at the Wal Mart in Lebanon, I finished the run down to Campbellsville and checked in. The loaders were on their lunch break when I arrived but I was loaded and rolling before too long.

Which brings me to some absolutely startling news. This load is one of those drop/hook deals that can be delivered any time tomorrow. Normally, they would dispatch me to run balls out and make the drop as soon as legally possible, within my available hours of service. I don't know exactly what that legal delivery time would be, but likely somewhere around 2pm or so. When the actual dispatch came through, I had to do a double take. I'm due in Waco by... midnight... tomorrow night? Holy smokes. Giving me an opportunity to run whatever schedule works best for me, while still meeting the customer's needs? Eerie. Now I can rest whenever I need to rest and get there when I get there. Early, late, it doesn't matter. Just gotta deliver by midnight. Beauty. I'm not sure who or what brought this about, but good lookin' out, my brother.

Hey, guess who would have had time to get tires in West Memphis tomorrow. Heh. Screw those guys. I'm not making another phone call. If they have me flagged for Laredo or Joplin, then they can send me to Laredo or Joplin, by golly.

For the second day in a row, I found that road conditions improved as the day progressed. By the time I reached Tennessee, everything was clean and dry. I was feeling pretty tired and not much in the mood to drive through Memphis during rush hour though, so I've stopped for the night in Stanton, Tennessee. My fantastic Italian BMT with double meat certainly hit the spot but I'm still not feeling like a million bucks, so I guess I'll see if I can nod off early tonight. Probably not, but it's worth a try. Either I'll leave here early and take a few breaks along the way or I'll sleep late and make a long drive of it. Flexibility in scheduling is certainly a beautiful thing.

2/8/10

When I got up to take a whiz this morning, I looked outside and saw a bunch of snow on the ground. I took this as a sign that a frustrating day would be in store for me. Little did I know that the frustrating part of the day would have nothing to do with the weather.

I did some calculation before I checked out of my motel room and found that, if I could make good time, my available nine hours might be enough to get me to my final destination after all. It would depend on traffic and the like, but at least I had a shot.

Once I got out to the freeway, I found that it had been plowed and salted. There were some spots where the road was too rough for the plows to work effectively and the ice was still problematic, but overall it wasn't too bad. Those few slow spots and the general caution being displayed by everyone on the road were still enough to make my pace a little slower than it would have been in good weather though.

Pursuant to yesterday's phone conversation with our road service department, I pulled into the Pilot in West Memphis and told the guy behind the desk that I needed two new drive tires. He was kind enough to inform me that he only had one super single in stock. Well, shit.

I went back out to my truck and dialed the road service department to see what they wanted me to do. As I sat waiting on hold, I pulled out my truck stop directory and looked to see what would lie ahead on I-40. Every time I have had a tire issue in the past, they have told me that I need to go somewhere that is a Michelin dealer so that they get the proper account pricing. I saw that the Love's in Jackson, Tennessee was a Michelin dealer and filed that information away in the memory bank.

After sitting on hold for fifteen minutes and still having a job to do, I headed back to the road. For the second time in as many opportunities, they waited until I was down the road and across the bridge to the next state before someone picked up the phone. You'll now get a rare glimpse inside the mind of a truck driver as he loses all patience but tries to maintain as professional a tone as possible. Let the frustration begin...


Road Service Guy: Road service, this is {...}, can I help you?

Me: Yeah, this is Joe on truck {...}. I just stopped at the Pilot in West Memphis for new drive tires but they only had one in stock. I need to know what would be my next option along I-40.

RSG: If you're in West Memphis, you need to go to McGriff's. That's a shop that we use.

Me: I'm not in West Memphis anymore. I've been on hold for 25 minutes. I've already crossed into Tennessee now.

RSG: Right, you need to go back to West Memphis

Unspoken Inner Monologue: I swear these guys act like I just pulled out of Grandma's driveway and forgot the cookies. I can't just throw it in reverse.

Me: I don't have enough hours to be driving in circles today. My customer is 450 miles away and I'm already below eight hours.

RSG: Well... {silence}

Unspoken Inner Monologue: He has no idea what I'm talking about.

Me: What else is there along I-40 to the east? I see that the Love's in Jackson is a Michelin dealer.

RSG: We try to do these things in Joplin so we can replace them for like half the price.

Me: I'm not headed in that direction.

RSG: That's why you need to go to McGriff's.

Unspoken Inner Monologue: I might as well be discussing organic chemistry with my two-year-old nephew right now.

Me: Assuming that's not an option, what's the next place?

RSG: You're saying that's not an option. I'm trying to help you here and you don't want me to help you. You just want to go wherever you want to go.

Unspoken Inner Monologue: I'll get tires in fucking Zimbabwe if you want me to, bubba. I don't give a shit. It's not my truck.

Me: I'm not sure you understand how the 70 hour rule works. I can't afford to burn an extra hour circling back right now.

RSG: But that's the closest place.

Me: You're not hearing what I'm saying. I'm already in Tennessee. By the time I find somewhere to turn around, get past the accident on the bridge, and find the shop in West Memphis, that's a half hour gone. By the time I get back to the freeway, make it across the bridge, and get back to where I am now, that's at least another twenty minutes. It doesn't matter how far the place is. It's in the wrong direction and I'm running low on hours.

RSG: Well, you should have called before you went to the Pilot in the first place. Then you would have known.

Unspoken Inner Monologue: I fucking called and I was told to go to the fucking Pilot. If you guys had enough people to answer your fucking phones in less than 25 minutes, I would be at your silly little shop right now and not having this fucking conversation with you.

Me: No, no, no. I did call. The guy yesterday said that the Pilot was my best option.

RSG: That's because McGriff's was closed last night. You didn't call last night when you got to the Pilot and found out they were out of stock, did you?

Unspoken Inner Monologue: Don't tell him what I'm really thinking right now. Just stay cool.

Me: I didn't have enough hours to get to West Memphis yesterday. I told the guy on the phone that I would be stopping this morning and he said that the Pilot was fine. I stopped at the Pilot this morning. They were out of stock. Then I called you and I was on hold for 25 minutes.

RSG: Well... {Silence}

Unspoken Inner Monologue: I had better find a way out of this before I blow my top and get myself fired. I'm not doubling back to West Memphis and forcing myself to run out of hours. I'm not falsifying my log book to make the delivery on time. There has to be a way out of this asinine conversation. Think... think.

Me: Can you just flag my truck for repairs in Joplin then?

RSG: {Sarcastic snicker}... Joplin is a lot further than West Memphis.

Unspoken Inner Monologue: This fucking Einstein still thinks we're arguing about the distance between Memphis and West Memphis.

Me: That's fine.

RSG: Okay then, it's in there that you need to be brought to Joplin or Laredo for a tire inspection.

Unspoken Inner Monologue: This was so fucking stupid. I swear it would almost be worth it to run over a pile of nails and make them send a roadside repair truck with new tires.

Me: Okay, thank you.

RSG: Okay.

_________________________________________


The sad part about the whole thing is that the guy probably still has absolutely no clue why I couldn't just swing back to West Memphis. I'm sure he hung up the phone and had a funny little story to tell about the asshole driver who just called. In my restaurants, I would see the same general thing going on. The waitresses knew nothing about the cooks, other than how to bitch about them. The cooks knew nothing about the waitresses, other than how to bitch about them. Nobody knew anything about the dish washers, unless and until we were out of clean glasses. Then everyone knew how to bitch about that too. I don't know why I should think that a trucking company would be any different. I guess I just fall into the trap of thinking that, since the drivers have federal regulations to follow and everything (dispatch, road service, etc.) has to fit within those regulations, then people should have some kind of clue as to what is going on outside their own cubicles.

Anyhow, whatever. I'm flagged for a "tire inspection" now. Good enough. I'm not below 2/32" yet, so hopefully they'll get me in within a few days.

The roads dried out once I got further into Tennessee and I was able to keep my foot down for most of the day. As I came across the Bluegrass Parkway, I started making a few quick mental calculations to see if I would indeed be able to reach my consignee tonight. That was the whole point of the exercise in futility detailed above, after all. If the bad weather comes in overnight as expected, then I would be far safer sitting in a customer's parking lot than I would be driving through the hills at 4am or 5am, before the sun comes up and before the roads are plowed. Not that my little buddy in road service would give a shit one way or the other, but maybe the people who send the damned "Be safe" messages every morning would understand why my remaining hours were important.

If I couldn't make it tonight, then the last truck stop would be the little one at Exit 42 on the parkway. I determined (correctly) that I should be able to reach my consignee before my hours ran out. I also determined (incorrectly) that dropping down from Exit 68 and catching KY-169 over to Nicholasville would be a good idea. Whoa Nellie, was that road ever a skinny one. It wasn't listed as restricted in my atlas though and I never saw any signs saying that I was out of line, so good enough. I didn't crash into anything, nobody crashed into me, and I got to my consignee with ten minutes to spare.

I received a pre-planned assignment for tomorrow as I was cruising up I-65 earlier in the afternoon. It's going from somewhere in Kentucky to Waco, Texas, so maybe the "or Laredo" part of the conversation with my little road service buddy will come into play. Better Laredo than Joplin, as far as I'm concerned. Plus I've been talking with some friends lately and it sounds like it's about time to head home for a few days. If I can get to Laredo before requesting home time, then I can make a few bucks on the way back up. One thing's for sure either way - I'm not requesting home time until I've gone to one of those two terminals and gotten new tires. This situation needs to be put behind me. I just had an inspection, I'll have relatively fresh tires all around, and the routine maintenance stuff is arranged electronically without a phone call. I hope that it's a good long time until I have to dial those people again.

Looks like fun in the morning...

2/7/10

This normally would be a post that begins with me offering salutations from one of the Corleone Family's many estates. This place, however, is unworthy of the label. For thirty bucks, I can handle the fact that the motel itself is a dump. The extracurriculars leave even more to be desired.

I got rolling this morning and made the cruise through Fort Worth without any delays. Out on the eastern part of I-30, traffic was light and everything was peachy. I spoke with our road service department and concluded that the easiest place for me to get tires will be at the same Pilot in West Memphis where I got the first two replaced. I couldn't reach West Memphis today, meaning that the tires are on tomorrow morning's agenda, so all I had to do was drive.

As I approached Exit 216 in Arkansas, I saw a sign saying that all rooms were $29.97 and the motel had truck parking. Good enough for me. The final cost of the room was $34.95 after tax so I guess this is one place that advertises accurately. I'm not sure I would say that they have truck parking though. There's a parking lot and my truck is in it, so maybe we're arguing semantics at this point.

My Swedish buddy Sjoe stopped by to watch the game with me. Then he went for a walk and found that he can't get his preferred beverage on a Sunday in this hayseed state. So he left me to watch the game by myself.

Then I tried to order a pizza and found that I can't get delivery from anywhere in this hayseed town. I had already paid for the room though, so I couldn't follow Sjoe's lead and take off. I walked out to the main street and saw that the local Pizza Hut is only a half mile away, so I hiked over there and grabbed some dinner. Good enough.

I left a little bit of time on the table today, stopping before my hours ran completely out, so I'll be able to work nine hours tomorrow. This won't get me all the way to my destination but it should get me into Kentucky.

And now, just to prove that I'm really that inept at this: Colts 34, Saints 24