10/8/09

The following exchange took place this morning at a Wendy's in Raphine, Virginia...

Goofy Airheaded Lass: Will this be for the dining room?

Me: Yes

GAL: What can I do for you?

Me: I would like a spicy chicken combo, large sized, plain, with an unsweetened iced tea to drink, please.

GAL: Okay, plain?

Me: Yes please.

GAL: Small, medium, or large?

Me: Large.

GAL: And what would you like to drink with that?

Me: Unsweetened iced tea, please.

GAL: Okay, iced tea, sweetened or unsweetened?

Me: Usweetened.

GAL: Okay, and is this for here or to go?

Me: For here.

I probably would have decided to share that story with you for no reason other than that it made me chuckle. As it turns out though, the tale of the Wendy's would be a pretty good metaphor for the day. While the overwhelming lack of common sense in the world might leave you completely stunned sometimes, it's all good as long as you get what you want in the end.

After my lunch break there in Raphine, I continued southward and wound up in some seriously annoying duels with motorists who insisted on passing me and then slowing down. My load wasn't extremely heavy, but it was heavy enough to hold me back on the numerous climbs. So if you passed me while I was going up a hill at 50mph, got half a mile ahead of me, and then I used my engine brake to come down the hill at around 65mph, there should be no reason for me ever to see you again. Yeah, who needs a reason to be a jagoff though? That dance can get pretty damned frustrating when it's repeated over and over and over. No freaking common sense.

Right around the time that I thought I might have to plow into the back of a minivan and let the chips fall where they may, I got some good news. First came a pre-plan for a load picking up in Greensboro tomorrow morning. It was only a 95 mile deadhead and then a 143 mile run, but at least I wouldn't be stuck in Charlotte and wondering where to park after I made my delivery this afternoon. A few seconds later, I received a revised pre-plan. It had the same short run out of Greensboro followed by a weekend run to Connecticut. I could get into a sarcastic rehashing of certain water under the bridge here, given that my second run for tomorrow is apparently scheduled to pick up today at 8am, but we'll leave that for another time. For now we'll just say that it was welcome news to see some work lined up for the next few days.

I rolled into the consignee in Charlotte ahead of the afternoon rush. Since my assignment said that it was a drop/hook, I was hoping to get rid of it early instead of waiting for 6pm to come around. It was, in point of fact, not a drop/hook. They unloaded me early anyway though. Good enough. By the time I left Charlotte, however, the afternoon rush was in full swing. Traffic came to a dead stop a mile or two before the right lane (where I was driving) would be forced to exit onto the outer loop. I put on my blinker and kept an eye on my mirror for an opening, since I wanted to stay on I-85. It's one thing for the cocksuckers in the next lane to ignore my blinker and keep the space next to me filled. You expect that sort of thing out here. It's quite another for the lady behind me to dart around my left side and block me from moving over once I did spot a tiny crack in the traffic jam. She sat behind me for five minutes watching me try to edge over, then cut me off simply so she could stop right next to me. What a bitch. No freaking common sense.

Before I ran out of road, I managed to scare some dude driving one of those goofy little eco-friendly cars into thinking that I didn't see him. Obviously I wasn't going to hit him but he didn't know this. That'll get 'em to step on the brakes in a hurry. Okay then, moving along...

I stopped at the Pilot in Kannapolis to top of the tanks and mail my paperwork to Joplin. The traffic jam had shaken loose by that point so I was in good shape for the rest of the drive to Greensboro. Or so I thought. When I pulled up to the fuel island, there were trucks two-deep at each pump - one fueling and one that had finished fueling and pulled forward. The 'pulled forward' one in my lane didn't move for a good twenty minutes. I sat there thinking to myself, "This bastard is going to come out with a fucking SubWay bag in his hand." Just after the twenty minute mark, there he was, waddling out with a SubWay bag in his hand. Now, I love an Italian BMT with double meat more than anyone, but come on. Half the damned truck stops in this country have a SubWay. You can find one with an empty parking space without too much difficulty. But no, genius here had to screw the rest of us trying to do our jobs. No freaking common sense.

So he drove off and I waited for the truck in front of me (at the pump) to move forward. Surely after twenty minutes he was as agitated as I was, right? But the truck didn't move. What the hell? Seven minutes later, I shit you not, another son of a bitch came waddling out of the building with a SubWay bag in his hand. To make matters even more annoying, this guy was in the trademark sleeveless t-shirt. I've had about enough of this sleeveless trucker nonsense as it is, you know. So yeah, it's been a while since I was in my last fist fight... sometimes it's a close call. No freaking common sense.

So he drove off and I finally got to the pump. Gas up the tanks, take a leak, grab my receipt, and hit the road... or not. Another Mensa candidate had parked in the driveway and gone into the truck stop. Since there were trucks two deep in the fuel lines and other trucks who had entered the driveway, this prick had completely shut down the flow of traffic. Nobody coming in, nobody going out. Since the people who had left the fuel island couldn't exit, nobody who had finished fueling could pull forward. Since nobody could pull forward, nobody could pull into the fuel island. Since nobody could pull into the fuel island, the people trying to enter the truck stop couldn't get out of the way. Since they couldn't get out of the way, nobody could get around the cocksucker blocking the driveway. One big circle jerk of epic proportions. No freaking common sense.

Once the dipshit driver (R&L, that's you) decided to bless the rest of us by leaving, there was another whole debacle involved with trying to clear out the logjam. People were backed up onto the street outside the truck stop and everything. Little by little though, people made their way back onto the road and I finally got back to the freeway. My next pickup was scheduled for 6am tomorrow in Greensboro and the shipper has an overnight parking area, so I headed straight there to spend the evening. No more traffic issues along the way, thank God.

Once I pulled into the shipper's lot I decided to roll the dice and check in as if the pickup were scheduled for tonight. It was a drop/hook so I figured my odds were at least 50/50. If I could get the loaded trailer tonight, then I wouldn't have to get up at 6am tomorrow. The delivery is scheduled for 1pm and it's only 143 miles away, after all. My loaded trailer was in fact ready and the drop/hook went quickly and smoothly. Beauty. Now, instead of parking for the night with an empty trailer, I'm parked for the night with a loaded trailer. I'll still have to set an alarm for tomorrow but it won't be for 6am. And thus, in the end, it's all good. The overwhelming lack of common sense in the world has indeed left me completely stunned, but I got a decent week of work in the end.

My schedule over the weekend would work out quite nicely for a respite at one of the Corleone family's East Coast estates. With my Irish on a bye week and my Tigers eliminated though, it would probably be a waste of money. I think I'll just enjoy the light workload and take it easy for a few days. Lord knows I'll probably get my share of frustration going up I-95. I'll have plenty of time for breaks if the need arises.