Back In The Saddle

EscaLADE!

By the saddle I mean Gary of course.  I got pegged by a rock on the way back up home last week, thanks to the dude in the Escalade passing me doing 80 and effectively kicking a golf ball in my face.  3/4" crack 2" below my straight line.  Between that, the rear toolbox panel peeling off, and my drivers seat back being angled 10 degrees to the right and screwing up my back for the last 4 months (Somehow I only noticed it 3 weeks ago), it was time to head in for some work.

I just happened to land on the weekend that 4 techs were on staff, 1 of which was assigned to trailer repair.  I have to give them credit for staffing the shop 7am-2am 7 days a week, but there are only so many tractors that 3 guys can fix in a weekend.  Considering that number was about 7 I can't say I could have done the same.  So I got done with my run which took me from Southboro to just down the street in South Holland, IL.  It was a 5 hour unload so while I spent 6 hours there I was surely losing my place in line here at the terminal.  When all was said and done I handed them the keys at 1pm on Saturday.

Well, fast forward to about 20 minutes ago, I was up and ready to head in and start another long day in the lounge and I got a knock on the door.  "Door 31 whenever you're ready"  So alone and back upstairs I am now, a far cry from what it was all weekend.  Looked kind of like a Superbowl party without the food... or beer.  Shoot the shit about our jobs, watch bad Sci-Fi original movies, Law and Order, and Nascar.  The satellite package they have is rather limited here, though it is a nice HD box.  Next time I'm at Wal-mart I'm getting a $30 dvd player and bringing in Christmas in July.

I estimate it will be about... 6 hours before they're done here. Though we've gone from 3 techs to 23 techs they are very... thorough. 

No Sleep Till Brooklyn

Recap?  Well when we last left our heroes Matti and Sheila, they were on a quest taking them to the perilous and dreaded streets of the Bronx.  Or so the Prologue said.  In reality, Taking a semi into the Bronx at 3am isn't really a challenge.  The truck routes are numerous and well marked, and with a little help from Google Street View the night before it was like I had already been there.  Easy $75 bonus.  Funny how I get $50 for a Canada crossing but $75 for a NY/Long Island run.  Should be the other way around.  I pulled up to the empty curb with the other trucks, (first time I was ever happy to see a "No parking 1-5am sign) checked in, and they said the other 2 trucks were ahead of me and they'd come get me.  I went back, passed out, and was woken up by the sun in my eyes and about 20 minutes after that, a knock on the door.  Maneuvering into the place was also cake, even though it was 2 and a half hours past appointment (and 1 past receiving hours) and there were significantly more cars on the street.  I don't know what happened to truck #1, but #2 and myself couldn't have been at the dock for more than 15 minutes each.  Ice cream spill, somebody tripped, who knows.  Whatever it was it made me late for my last stop in Trenton, whose receiving hours are STRICTLY 6-9am.  I arrived at 10.   Nice of them to set me up with overnight parking and get me first in line in the morning.

Freakin' Space Terrorists

Though that 15 hour setback had screwed up the initial plan to get me home on Saturday.  Better luck next time but at least it was sunny this time.  Also, Prometheus wasn't the most badass piece of the Alien franchise, but worth a watch for fans of the first movie.  There were some hallmark moments reminiscent of the 1979 masterpiece but there was a serious lack of  Lance Henricksen.  Thanks Pat for buying our tickets, matinee is really the only way to go.

Six figures. Twice

That's the milestone Sheila will reach later today, at least.  200,000 miles.  Though it will be 45,800 with me behind the wheel.  Not too bad, considering I got my keys just shy of 5 months ago.  I haven't counted up the paid miles, though I'm sure its significantly fewer.  That's the trick to reaching 125,000 PAID solo miles.  That's the zip code to zip code formula.  Which in the case of picking up cranberries in Philly and dropping them off at the Bensalem yard, it works in my favor.  Z-Z it pays me 14 miles.  Physically its 2.3 miles around the block.  #winning.  On the flip side, whatever my final assignment ending point is + x miles to home time doesn't count.  Those miles aren't on my own dime, but they are on my own time.

Though I don't know my paid miles off the top of my head, my pay stub brought a startling realization this week.  My YTD gross surpassed the maximum potential of my perpetually part time job I held dear for so long.  Considering it was marked June 5th, that's pretty damn good.

Today my delivery takes me to a town I've seen on the map and on signs but never passed through.  Every time I do I think "Okay, there has to be a story there".  The unincorporated town on the outskirts of Pittsburgh- Eighty Four, Pennsylvania.  Much to my dismay, the story is pretty boring.  Its just the HQ of the 84 Lumber Company.  Much like the [former] industrial center of Gary, IN is named for the founder of US Steel, Elbert Gary.  My drop is on Eighty Four Drive, but its not at number 84.  Which is good, because there is probably a black hole behind that mailbox.

Anyway that's later this afternoon.  I shut down here last night but am only 2 hours out, and if I have to spend 18 hours anywhere, an Ohio Turnpike plaza is the place to do it.  Panera, KFC, Pizza Hut, BK, Starbucks, and free wifi.  All they need is a Dunks and a Cold Stone and they'd be all set.  I dragged my laptop in to do a bit of modeling but here I am of course, doing the important stuff.

The tricky part will be traversing through Pittsburgh for an inner-city pickup at 0700 tomorrow.  You'll probably find me rolling VERY early for that one.  What time of day is it easiest to do a ghetto run?

Dad and Unlce Dennis will be happy to know 20554 is behaving mostly fine, except for the ABS light showing its ugly face in stop and go traffic.  Oh wait, all our reefers do that.  nvm lol.  With the normal record of drop and hooks all the time I was sure I would have ditched this one by now, but here I am 8 days later and she's still following me.  As long as the shoes don't rust on me overnight we'll be good.  Given this is real life and not Far Cry 2, that shouldn't be a problem.

For pretty much everybody here clueless,  Far Cry 2 is a shooter where you go through the jungles in Africa and the designers at Ubisoft thought it would be realistic to have an MP5 or AK47 go from factory operating condition to rusty as an old shovel in 15 minutes.  No, literally 15 minutes.  I'm no chemist, but I'm calling bullshit.  And I think they know full well because they actually have a multiplayer map called "Rust".

Who'll Stop The Rain?

I've been doing okay with my getting home time every other weekend, and alternating between the house in NJ and back home in MA there's a decent interval between visits to each.  Well, the contrast in scenery is getting a little stale.

Summer in The Garden State

New England.  Just wait 5 minutes, right?

I seem to bring a 4-5 day binge of rain that parks itself until I leave.  The one upshot is that on this last tour of duty the wash bays in Gary and HQ seemed to be perpetually broken so Sheila never saw a drop of water.  But come on, once every 4 weeks and I get THREE washouts in a row now?
Well soon I'll be doubling those odds, this should be the last month I'm a physical resident of NJ.
Mr. Social Life machine GO