Gripes at Truck Stops

- Driver pulls into a fuel island, gets out, goes for a shower, chow, does a bit a jawing with the cashier.
- Driver pulls into a fuel island, takes the window squeegee and proceeds to wash his #$%@@ truck!
- 2 am, trying to catch some shuteye, just ready to doze off, some cowboy pulls in with his Jake break on!
- Whatever it is, or whatever they are, spinning round and round on those roller grills.
- Toenail clippings in the shower stalls.
- Getting my breakfast, settling into a booth, just about to take a slug of joe, and the guy across from me
asks ...... "Are you a Christian?
- Walk in and have some piece of #$! dressed in some kinda halfa** military uniform, wanting a handout.
- 14-year-old lot lizards. And even younger.
- Drivers pull into a spot on the lot, then at 3am, gets out, goes to the back of the trailer and take a whiz.
- Drivers that toss trash on the ground just before leaving.
- Drivers that let their dogs run free.
- RV's that let their kids run free.
- Drivers that gotta settle some beef, swinging away, right in the middle of the entrance or exit.
- Fuel sign says one price, only to find its two or three cents more per gallon at the pump.
- Drivers with a fuel card that bounces, then start arguing and blocks everybody else in line.
- Cop pulls over a car on the street, leaves his/her squad car sticking out blocking the exit space.
- Back into a spot, get ready for some rest and chow, step out and down, right into a pile of dog crap.
Other than that, how goes your day?

 

It was a bitter cold January in Kansas when I just had to hit the can. I rolled out of the sack, put on my snowmobile suit, and started a long walk to the truck stop. The place was made out of three large Quonset Huts welding together. Maybe some of you remember the place. It was a long walk, and a darn cold one. I get inside and follow the signs that said MENS. I get inside, look around and it's freshly painted all white. Nice place for its kind. I take a stall, start to unzip and sit, then I close the stall door and latch it. As I sit...... there scribbled on the inside of this freshly painted door, with a black magic marker is....
KILL WHITEY.
Up came the zipper, quick step to the entrance.... quicker steps to my rig, yanked
the door open, hit the starter, hit the air...... gone.

 

At the end of April in 92, I got caught in the Rodney King riots. It was ugly. A few drivers got their faces pushed in and one got yanked out of his truck and a brick in his head - that one was on TV. My experience was in 80, I can tell you that when you see something like I saw, you don't sit around and think - you get your lily white tailfeathers out. PERIOD. Make fun all you want, but there's a lot of mean racial stuff out there. I've been in this business since 68, and I can't believe the outright language on the CB. the hate, the anger, the downright fuse just waiting for a spark. Look around at the counters of the truck stops and all you hear is crap talk. The tinmen down south just lay in wait for blacks, Russians, Asians, Latinos, Sikh Turban Patka's and anybody who is not white. If I've heard a black driver called "boy" once, I've heard it a million times. In Lancaster, S.C., I was next in line for a DOT check point when I saw a black driver, standing next to his cab, the DOT clown tosses this driver's logbook back, on the ground for the driver to pick up.
So, say what you want, but I haven't survived two tours in-country and lived this long, by joking to myself about crap like this.