Thursday, August 23, 2012

The need for hugs (or the inability to stop and give them)

                                                

    I need to take a moment to vent if  y'all could indulge me for a moment. Let me begin with a little back story, my lady has got some shit goin on concerning the kids and her ex. These would be some seriously big big issues. The size of going up shit creek without a paddle issues. Well that's what we hope anyways. Unfortunately these issues involve sittin in a court room, testifying, shutting down emotions and all else. I know very stressful indeed, the shit this MEALY MOUTHED, MAGGOT EATING, POND SCUM SUCKING, FUCK and his retarded attorney have pulled in this whole process since he got arrested in October of last year make me firmly believe and sorely miss the days when it would have been totally legal to string 'em up from the tallest tree, right along side the horse thieves and murderers. Ya slightly graphic but still. Yesterday was an evidence hearing for the defense to try to prove the state has no case against the fuck. At basically the eleventh hr (well two weeks before said hearing) my lady gets a subpoena from said retard attorney to come testify on the defenses behalf. So she spends the entire day sittin outside in the hallway of the courthouse, 'cause in this post O.J. day and age we live in god forbid witnesses sit in the court room so they can be swayed by other peoples testimony. Sittin outside in a complete state of shutdown, 'cause nobody knows what the attorney will ask or what kind of bullshit from the past may get drudged up. Yes folks her ex is a real winner let me tell you. And after all the stress and worrying what does this stupid excuse for an attorney ask my lady..........Do you know the detective? That's right, do you know the detective. Jesus Christ on a palomino talk about a waste of someones time!!!!!! The fact that this fucked with her emotionally and otherwise makes me want to find this bastard(the attorney) hang him, draw him, and quarter him like in medieval times. So the day is done, she gets home and calls me to let me know what all went on etc etc.

   Now comes the reason for this post, in telling me what happened and stuff i hear my lady nearly flip her lid 5 times. On her kids, cats, everything. And at the end of the night she loses it, crys and breaks down on the phone right there. Tells me she wishes i was there to hold her and then cusses herself saying it aint fair to me to say that cuz i probably want to be there to. Well ya i would have loved to be there to offer my support and love, but due to unforeseen breakdowns on Tue (my first one with the new truck yay!) i couldn't make it in time. Hearing this kinda hurt, but on the other hand, it's the life we live being gone from home usually for a month at a time, cuz the brokers we use come up with the worst freight we can imagine thinking it's the cream of the crop causing the necessity to run our dicks into the ground in order to make a living. Or at least try to, but i digress. Like i told her last night and repeat in this post it aint unfair to say that or even think it, it's on of the things that keeps me and guys like me goin out here knowing there is someone at home that misses us and needs that comfort and security we offer when we can be there. Now this morning i find out that my "driver manager" assigned to me by said broker was suppose to call me yesterday and tell me to go home for a night postponing my delivery til Friday. Did they? NO!!!!! I get a phone call this morning at 8:15 with the voice on the other end of the line saying "please tell me your not at you delivery", duh stupid where else would i be? I know the term professional is lost on most people anymore but fuck it still means something to me. Sure would be nice if my "driver manager" could wrap their mind around that, but alas I've been trying to make that happen for the almost 2 years I have been back with this broker to no avail. I would take this opportunity to interject that any comments about qualcomms in the comment section will be met with unpretty results. You're my friend and do me a good job, and this post aint directed towards you, and i understand loyalty and all but take a step back and see my point of view. (you know who you are) The person who knows who they are is one of two in this organization that get professionalism and the second i question sometimes. So now i sit in Ontario Oregon all day waiting to load a 3 drop load in the morning, where i have to turn 2000 miles over the weekend to make my first drop in Kentucky. So needless to say no hugs even after i load tomorrow. As I'm sure you can imagine yours truly has been LIVID for most of the day. But after watching netflix most of the day on the fold able, portable porno watching device and a couple conversations with my lady, who as i type and post this is having a "calgon take me away moment", i know i know it was new to me too. I have been able to somewhat calm down (thank god for Voltron Force and Star Trek, did i mention i'm something of a nerd at times to?) So knowing tommorrow is gonna be a lonmg and hugless day i shall take thois oppritunity to say I love you sweetheart with all my heart and soul!!!! And hope to be home soon.
   I thank you all for taking the time to allow me a moment of venting, and if any are offended by the content in this post.....deal with it it's my blog and my right to put what i want on here and if you don't like it piss off.




                                                                                           I remain as always your humble servant,
                                                                                                          The wandering gypsy

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Profesionalism personified or not

        I have to tell y'all about my adventure the other day in ohio and indiana. The day started out like any other day in the eastern time zone in this great country of ours, at 4a.m. Yep yours truly does get up before the chickens believe it or not! Well once in a while, mostly i like to start my day around 6 or 7a.m. But i digress, i loaded out of a coil facility in northwestern ohio figuring the delivery was only 200 miles southwest of me and my reload was only 90 miles away from there. Load the coils, drop the coils, and load the big ass limestone blocks for home. Easily done and in my own sleazy manner to boot.......ya right! I sit in line behind the other flatbeds and covered wagons for roughly an hr and a half, just for starters. When i check in with security they ask me if i have beveled 4x4's, that's right BEVELED 4x4's!!!!! Now i ask y'all who has ever heard of beveled 4x4's when hauling coils? I asked this question to the "nice" security guard and was informed that i would be loading "prime" coils. Is there such a thing as non prime coils? I was directed to a local hardware store to purchase four brand new 4x4's with one corner cut off to prevent damage to the coils. Cost 40 bucks, not a big deal cause i was figuring that my lady could use them to build a nice planter box in the yard somewhere. (See the power of positive thinking folks, look at me, look at me) I returned to the fine coil facility after purchasing my 4x4's, beveled to protect the product, and the fun began.

        After confirming that i indeed had the required material to load these precious coils, did i mention waiting 2 hrs for the hardware store to open? The security guard starts going over the rules for the facility. And i had a question...big mistake. This ignorant rent a cop bitch puffs out her chest stands up to her full 5' 6" height and tells me "sir, all questions can wait until i have completed this overview it makes it easier". Now i don't remember paying this fat waste of my time and her flesh the $10 for the guided tour of a p.o.s. coil facility in butt fuck ohio and their shitty regulations. I told her very politely that if i had questions, i would ask them, and expect an answer post haste (at this point please refer to the previous post and the comment about nice til the asshole must come out, this is one of those times parents keep your little ones away from the computer if you continue reading, you've been warned) Believe me folks i had questions, I made curious george look like a satisfied well educated scholar! She told me i must have a long sleeve shirt and long pants on at all times while on the property. To wich i asked if i roll up the cuffs my shirt would they still be considered long sleeve cuz it is a nice shirt given to me by my lady for christmas and i didn't want to ruin it. The security guard told me no i was not allowed to roll up the cuffsof my shirt and she didn't give a damn if it was a gift or not, being a profesional i should be prepared for any and all customer regulations when it came to doing my job. Well i just got told, or so she thought tee hee. I was then informed that after loading i was allowed to use two chains per coil to secure them before leaving the loading area. To wich i replied that my personal preference and regulations stated quite clearly that the driver cannot move the truck until the coils are properly secured. She told me that my company rules do not apply on her property and i would do it their way period. Uh huh ya right, i informed her that once loaded i would gauge the safety of moving with only 2 chains on the coils and if she didn't like it she could kiss my ass!! The next regulation was that i would be allowed 10 minutes that's right 10 minutes to tarp my coils and get off the property. I asked said fat cow how I was suppose to tarp a load of coils in 10 minutes when it would take at least that to properly pad and protect them from getting ripped by these "prime" coils they would be covering? To which the embarrassment to her parents replied she didn't care as long as i was done in the time allowed. Needless to say my tarping took an hour and a half to complete and my oh my did it look pretty if i do say so myself! The next stop on this waste of time tour was the rule that once tarped proceed back to the security gate to receive paperwork. After receiving paperwork i was to leave the property altogether and no parking in the driveway or on the side of the access road exiting said property. Wellllll you guessed it, i left 8 imprints of bridgedstone low profile 22.5 tires installed with pride at the peterbilt plant in denton tx all over the grass on the side of said access road. You see the pushing 300 pound tub of lard didn't have a phone number for the receiver in Indiana so i had to call the broker that my broker got the load from for a number. Not to mention my loaded call to my broker. Fast forward 10 minutes and phone calls made, and log book properly up to date (i may run like an outlaw but i aint stupid about it folks), I put the truck in gear just as shamu was waddling her ass out of the security office presumably to tell me that i was breaking the rules by sitting there. Time to leave beautiful Ohio and fly down to Indiana for phase 2 of my fucked up day.
  
      Now when i called the customer in Indiana i got a breath of fresh air and much respect (which in my world means EVERYTHING). The gentleman on the other end of the line answered the phone and as soon as i introduced myself the first words out of his mouth were "what can i help you with sir"? Getting my directions and window of delivery from this nice man i put Bad Intentions in the wind and strolled rather sleazily down to Indiana for delivery. Again fast forward 3 hrs ( yes a lot of fast forwarding in this one, i hope y'all got a good grip on my coat tails so you can keep up). I roll into the customer for delivery, parking off to the side of the driveway to check in properly like the professional that i am. While doing this my truck was passed by a stupid, in a bigger hurry than everybody else steering wheel holder. After rolling up my tarps and putting away all my padding and equipment i walk in and ask the receiver how i am to pull in to unload when this embarrassment to all professional truck drivers pulled around me to but in line. Folks it's rare that you will see the red color of rage slowly climb up out of a persons shirt collar and peak at their forehead causing steam to come out of the ears like in the cartoons but i swear by whatever gods exist it happened. In a fit of righteous indignation this man stalked out to the other truck and told him NOBODY cuts in line on his watch and get his lazy inconsiderate ass to the back of the line NOW! The receiver then apologized to me for the bastards rudeness and told me to pull in and unload. Needless to say the day started fucked but as i left the customer in Indiana i thought that maybe in the end it may have been worth it.

         I hope y'all found this rather long winded post as entertaining to read as the people that got to hear about it first hand did.

                                                             Until next time i remain as always your humble servant,
                                                                                    
                                                                                                     The wandering gypsy

                                                                                        

Sunday, August 5, 2012

greetings and salutations

Allow me to beg a moment of your indulgence...


There, that sounds like a sophisticated way to begin don't it? Well screw sophistication, maybe the better way to begin would be...LLLLLLLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS,CHILDREN OF ALL AGES!!!!!!......nah maybe not that way either. Hmm this could be difficult, well the best way is probably to just get down to it...after many years of thinking about this and thinking some more it's finally time. Yes it's time for another voice of the voiceless to be heard (read) and try my best to make y'all think yet be entertained at the same time. To write and hopefully through your comments discuss the issues affecting my industry and others who take as much pride as i myself do in what we do. What do we do you ask? Well I myself am a professional truck driver, not a steering wheel holder, and not a trucker. I was born into this industry, I live it I breath it every day of my life. I was raised in the old school manner of you take the utmost pride in what you do and drive whether you drive a large car i. e. peterbilt 379 or kenworth w900L or a volvo or freightliner, also known as "freightshakers". Myself and those like me strive everyday to improve the image of the professional driver out here on the road. we show up at customers clean in both appearance and our equipment. We firmly believe in a handshake and frown deeply upon those who refuse to shake hands with the men and women who deliver their goods. If we call a customer and ask them how they are doing and they blow it off we instantly turn on the asshole attitude they so richly deserve. And we have no tolerance for those who show up dirty and act disrespectful to other people out here. If you see one of us and we are being helpful and offering advice or a helping hand you'd best take it or suffer the consequences. We don't put up with dirty, disrespectful, sloppy people in our industry. At this time i would like to take a moment to warn one and all that my randomness kicks in too. Yes in the middle of these blogs we will take a left turn out of nowhere so i recommend y'all hold on tight and enjoy the levity in my more serious posts. As an example...did any of you know that the street lights in hershey PA are shaped like hersheys kisses? Or the reason the rocks on southern Ut and the southwest are red because of a high iron content? Back to the blog, did y'all keep up? Good we aint to far off track, but before the inevitable writers block shows up to rear its ugly head i thank you one and all for taking a moment to read my first of many blogs, and invite you to join me on this somewhat curvy adventure into the world of online ramblings.


                                                                                     Until next time i remain humbly your servant
                                                     
                                                                                                            The wandering gypsy