Going Home

[DCEPTCN]

Well, almost. Recruiters originally told me that I could go straight into a dedicated Southwest regional route with Werner. After orientation in Phoenix, it turns out that they couldn't verify my past tractor/trailer experience with my previous employer. (If you're real friends, you'll boycott Pepsi) So, I was informed that I would have to endure the entire 'Student' training program. This is training for people who's Class A was printed yesterday. Alright, how long does that take? Well, it's 275 hours at $350 a week..."shouldn't take more than 6 to 8 weeks". Okay, 80 hours of work per week at $350...hell, that's waitstaff money, but I should have it done in no time being as I have experience, right? Well, turns out the 275 hours is strictly "line 3" time- which is to say, time behind the wheel. Okay, maybe it'll take 6 to 8 weeks after all. Well, here I am 12 weeks later. Despite the fact that I was taking a job in the Southwest I had to ride with trainers who ran 48 state routes. This means plenty of time routing around 12 foot bridges, eastern routes that were around long before the advent of the internal combustion engine, etc. THREE GODDAMNED MONTHS, PEOPLE! But I muscled it out. As far as things that I've actually had to elect to do, this was amongst the more difficult. Three months of hoping that the trainer will decide that today we can get a shower....'cause it's been 4 days and I smell like a dancing mule. Three months of assuring my daughter that I'll be home soon and learning that even a 3-year-old gets tired of the bullshit and starts to doubt you. Three months of being treated like a flunkie by a big awesome trainer guy who fell out of the womb with a steering wheel in his hands. I reached the 275 hour mark about 2 weeks ago. I believe we were in KC. (Hauling a load of 2009 Harley Davidsons....3 8 of 'em!) Like a moron, I had looked down the tunnel at that 275 hour point as if I'd magically jump off of the truck at that very minute. Nope. For a week and a half I/we were routed (mysteriously) *around* every terminal that the company has. Seems that moving frieght 11 hours a day at minimum wage is something that they like to do. Anyway, I got the Denver terminal on Sunday afternoon. This is good, because it is within a day's drive from home and makes it more likely that they'll find a load headed my way and dispatch me home. First thing Monday (yesterday) morning, I caught the hotel shuttle from the Comfort Suites to the Werner terminal for my 'graduation'. A few hours of written an computer-based tests (total cake walk for anyone *without* Down's Syndrome) and I was officially done with this 'training' nightmare. Then, around noon yesterday came the moment that I had lusted after for a quarter of a year: I was asked "What kind of truck would you like?" What do you think I said? You know it, baby- the Cadillac of rigs: a Peterbilt 379. Yeah-fuck-yeah! *Think Michael Bay's Optimus Prime* They said they had one and it was MINE! Yes! Finally, for the first time in my life I actually was rewarded for patience and hard work.....but wait- did she just say "recovery"? Oh shit. I'd heard that awful word before. As it turns out, some drivers get so tired of the road that they'll 'abandon' a truck in the middle of nowhere. The phone call goes like, "Hey, assholes- I'm going home. Take your job and stick it! Your truck is at a Pilot in Salina, Kansas. Good luck towing it back!" First off, anyone who does this will never work for a major carrier again...thay blacklist you for life over that. You would literally be better off getting a DUI than abandoning a truck. So anyway, they tell me that I'll be jumping a Greyhound first thing and going to retrieve my new Pete in Salina, Kansas. This morning I woke up gright and early, got a cab to the Denver Greyhound station and suffered through what I hope to be my last ride on a Greyhound....E VER. (See Greg's rant) At around 4:30 central time this afternoon, I got off the bus and called the towing company -that retrieved it from whatever truckstop it'd been left at- for a ride to my truck. I kept hoping that the 'gentleman' who had ditched the truck was a nice man who had had an emergency (maybe a wife in labor, or something) and had no choice but to quit. Yeah- that's the ticket! In my mind he was a sweet old man who took great pride in keeping that truck presentable. Waiting at the bus stop, some HIDEOUS woman approaches me and says, "I'm gonna sit with you and smoke a joint, is that cool?" and smiles. "No," I say and shoo her away. The wrecker driver picks me up and takes me to the 379 that I've had a hard on for for 3 months. I opened the driver's side door, beaming with pride....and.. .."Oh my fucking god!" I yell. The padding on the floor has been ripped up. There is MONTHS worth of garbage (fast food wrappers, mostly) piled on the floor and numerous pages torn from porn magazines all over. The top bunk mattress is missing and has been better used as a dumpster. The bottom mattress sports stains that I can't even identify. The smell is so awful that I can't stand it anymore. Awestruck, nonplussed, I climb out of the rig. I was told to be prepared for this and had heard all of the horror stories.....bu t, SHIT man. So, I decide it's not so bad. Hell, if'n I take it around the corner to the Bosselman's the company pays for all repairs and a thorough detail. Not that easy, though- the FUCKING THING WONT START. All of the batteries are dead. Great. I'll leave out the part of the story about having to *beg* for a pay advance (for the hotel room tonight) and them putting me on hold for so long while pursuing that advance that they almost killed my phone battery. Suffice it to say, today sucked royally. I had seriously hoped to post up a triumphant story of iron nerves and the reward that followed but no- everyone in this world is a scumbag piece of shit. First thing in the morning I call the person in charge of recoveries and find out what the hell will happen. Worst case? I'll have to jump a Greyhound back to Denver and then out again to wherever the next truck is. Hopefully they'll get it all fixed and cleaned up locally within a day or two and I can go home.

Sincerely,
Sleepless In Salina


Werner Pete 379:
  
  

[DCEPTCN]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cuFLCKzdZ4&feature=related

[DCEPTCN]

Also, if you're still not believing that the 379 is the baddest of all trucks, it's also the one that chases the poor kid in the Enter Sandman video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRYDetbwegs

[Recklessrob]

Your fingers are probably too weak to hold a steering wheel after all that typing anyways...

[DCEPTCN]

Root fifth, shmoot fifth....all I can do is grip this Currs Light.

[Zap]

You think you had a bad day? I spilled a Mountain Dew all over my crotch and the recliner has developed a slight squeak when I recline (and I recline a lot). Not related incidents, by the way.

Good luck to you and whatever that long paragraph was about.

[DCEPTCN]

I thought that diction and verbosity mattered to you...? You reclining sonofabitch. You're dead to me.

 No biggy, though- so's the IRS, the 1989 Denver Broncos, Godfather's Pizza, Pai Gow poker and recycling.

[Zap]

I always thought that Cliff Notes could use some editing, personally (and professionally).

[DCEPTCN]

Srry, frgt 2 mention that Cliff is ded 2 me as well. How rad must sex be for Cliff? "Sorry, baby- that's all you'll get".

[Zap]

I can't top that, so I'm going to bed.  :rofl;

[87natty]

Fuck Sylvan, <- ENTER key. Maybe NOW I'll start reading.

[DCEPTCN]

Dents are for the teeth of girls that Zap screws, NOT my rants. *Enter*

[Top Speed]

I read the whole thing.  Wow, you sound really bitter.

[Recklessrob]

Dents are for the teeth of girls that Zap screws, NOT my rants. *Enter*

The standard repair for that is braces. <Enter>

[Racer X]

I will type a response once my computer finishes downloading the original post.