All-state career Essington/Lester *rant*

Went to allstate for a campus tour, shady isnt a strong enough word. Ended up going to smith and soloman, better equipment, learning the same stuff in 4 weeks instead of 6 months, and a heck of alot cheaper. Big carriers will hire 4 week students, remember they will reteach you just about everything. School is for learning basics, company training goes more in depth but experience is where you learn the most.

 

Make sure you share with us when you're hired

 

I road tested wensday october 27th, had a prehire a week before hand and was on the bus to orentation saturday october 30th. I had only applied to one company, and 8 months later are still with them now on a dedicated account after doing time on line haul.

 

Did you go to the one in Cherry Hill?

 

I have some negatve thoughts about Smith-Solomon, my wife went there in 2008. That said, it's still a far sight better than a $9k school... no matter how long it takes. I can't imagine that any school would be able to teach $9k worth of experience, especially since most of our experience is gained by actual driving in the unusual places we end up in, shippers, receivers, tight warehouses, etc.

From the mega carrier perspective, having a CDL and being a recent school graduate is just as good from one school as another... I can't imagine them saying "well, lookee here, this guy went to school at XXX, we're not going to have him on probabtion, and he gets that new Pete 379 we were saving for Oscar, our 25 year driver".

Not happening.

 

Baz- no, i went to the one in new castle, de

Ronin- sorry to here your wife had a bad exp there. Mega carriers prefer students, and usually the school doesnt matter unless its a fly by night type school. I think my company hires from both smith and soloman & all state. I did get lucky and am now in a 379 daycab but started in a 387 with about 575000 on the odometer. Btw, i like your signature about the reciever in queens. One place wanted me to blindside down a small side street off of atlantic ave., at 930am. i think it was the ozone park part of town.I didnt, was unloaded double parked.

 

Welcome to the wonderful world of Big truck truckin'and the stories that go with the territory. A word of caution though ---
Be careful who you tell your stories to. If you're among a group of other Big truck truck drivers, relating your strangest experiences shouldn't be a problem as they've probably been there and done that, so they know you're not makin' it all up. Now, if you're in a group of non-truckin' motorists and you start tellin' the same stories, be prepared for the raised eyebrow, one-eyed look of disbelief. You can almost hear what they're thinkin' --- "Does this dude think I'm dumb enough to believe that bovine excrement"? Little do they realize such stories are common and in actuality, they're dumb enough not to believe those stories, but
It's twue!
It's twue!

For instance, the company dispatcher received a phone call from an irate consignee complainin' about a driver refusing to back his trailer to the dock so they could unload.

The driver in question isn't the type who gives anyone a hard time, and the dispatcher mentioned that to the consignee, askin' for more details. The consignee insisted that the driver was bein' uncooperative.

"Put my driver on the phone", the dispatcher asked. When the driver answered, the dispatcher asked what was goin' on. The driver explained that the dock they wanted him to back up to was a blind-side back, but that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that from the tip of the rubber dock bumpers to an eight foot block wall there was exactly fifty feet to put a forty-eight foot trailer squarely into. That left two feet for the tractor. The driver had shown the consignee by tape measure that what he was askin' was for the driver to put seventy-three feet of Big truck and trailer into a fifty foot space. "How do I do that"? the driver asked the consignee, who answered, "I don't know. That's your problem."

After speakin' to the dispatcher, the driver handed the phone back to the consignee. Once back on the phone, the dispatcher asked the consignee if the driver had, indeed, measured the distance and explained what the problem was.
"Yeah, so what? I need what's on that trailer and I can't get to it 'till he backs up to my dock".

A pause of silence -------------------

Well, you stupid #%**#. Are you so *##* stupid that you can't understand why 73 *&%%# feet won't fit in a #*%! fifty foot space?
Well, listen up you *#!# moron, here's they way it's gonna be.
You get your ##*% buttox busy unloadin' my driver, --- right where he sits. It's impossible for him to get to your dock, so deal with it. That's your problem.
You have three hours to git-er-dun. In three hours, I've instructed my driver to close and lock his trailer doors and leave. If you haven't finished unloadin', that's tough. The driver will find a rental storage facility, rent a space, hire lumpers to finish unloadin', and send you the bill. When you pay the charges in full, we'll send you the location of the storage unit along with a key to the door, and you can retrieve it at your convenience.
Understand?

The consignee replied in a panic voice that the temporary workers wouldn't be there for at least another two or three hours to unload the trailer, and that the only people there were office workers, all dressed up in suits and ties.

"Let me get this straight. My driver had an eight AM appointment time, ...... he arrived at seven-thirty, ..... but you aren't goin' to unload him for another three hours, --- so you expect him to just sit around twiddlin' his thumbs 'till you get your head outta your buttox? Is that accurate"?

"Yeah, pretty much", the consignee answered.

"Well then, you better round up those office people and put 'em to work unloadin' that trailer. I gave you three hours to git-er-dun, and that was fifteen minutes ago. Time is tickin'. You now have two hours and forty-five minutes before my driver is instructed to depart your facility.
Have a nice day".

The driver said it was comical seein' lumpers dressed in expensive suits, white shirts and ties and loafers on their feet, gruntin' and groanin', pushin' and shovin', in a most un-coordinated manner. The entire load was on pallets, and there was a newer lookin' forklift parked on the dock, --- but nobody from the office know how to operate it.
HaiL!
They didn't even know how to start the propane powered thing.
But the Big truck truck driver did.
Our drivers were well qualified to operate forklifts, and did so quite often at our main terminal warehouses.

He thought about mentioning that to the, now very busy, (and dirty), consignee. But, somehow, it must have slipped his mind.
He remembered about two and a half hours later, but they were already finished unloadin'.

When he went to get the paperwork signed, not even one of the five office workers was standin'. They were all slouched in the office easy chairs, dirty, sweaty, and guzzlin' water, --- tryin' to cool off after exercising heavily in ninety-five degree, humid, weather.

With signed BOL in hand, our driver proceeded to exit the building, but, bein' a bit of a wize-guy, our driver stopped, appeared to be deep in thought, then turned, put on his best sincere act, and said, "Ya know, you folks should really look into gettin' uniforms. It'll be a lot cheaper than those three and four hundred dollar suits y'all got now. And those loafers on y'all's feet gotta be what, ....... another hundred?
Just sayin'".
And waved good-bye, (thinkin' good riddance).

But there's more, -------------------------- yup.
Wize-guyz can be relentless. Never missin' an opportunity to get a dig in, and they'd never pass up what came next.
For whatever reason, all five of the well attired lumpers filed out of the room behind our driver. Not followin' him, just headed to the other side of the building, which required goin' through the warehouse area, where one of the just arrived temporary help helpers was attemptin' to start the forklift. That caught the attention of the head-honcho, and a couple of others. They gathered 'round the machine lookin' helpless.

Our driver hesitated, then approached them.
"May I"? He asked politely.

"Go for it! But it won't even start. The place where it was rented sent us one that doesn't work".

Our driver acted confused, askin',
"Did they carry it up here to the dock from their Big truck when they delivered it?
Or did they push it by hand onto your dock"?

"Neither, ......... they drove it", the head-honcho, (the one who called the dispatcher) replied.

"I see, (and he really did see the perfect opportunity), it ran then, but not now.
I've seen this sort of thing happen before. Has somthin' to do with the kanootin valve not modulating the triangular chinga-dara. Y'all know what that'll cause. I need all three of you to go to the other side of the forklift and watch closely for a fine little spray. You might have to rock the forklift back and forth, but if I can do this right, we can avoid that".

As they all went to the other side of the forklift and focused their attention on seein' a spray, our driver opened the valve on the propane tank strapped to the top rear of the forklift, which supplied the fuel to make it run. That's all that was wrong.
He called them back and asked if they saw a spray. None of them had seen any.
Go figure.

"That's a good sign", our driver told 'em.
"That means all I gotta do is",......................
and with that he kicked the left rear tire firmly.
"Try it now", our driver instructed the temporary helper sittin' in the driver's seat.
With the first twist of the key, that puppy fired right up and ran fine. The look on all their faces was described as priceless. Amazed! Dumbfounded. Our driver had all he could do to contain his laughter.
(Professional wize-guyz can do that, but don't try it at home. Leave that for the experts.)

"How did you do that?!
What did you do?!
How did you know to do whatever it is that you did"?! the head-honcho wanted to know.

"Last question, first. Well, ......... I've been 'round a lot of these forks, and ya sorta pick up little tricks along the way. Like, for instance, this valve here on the fuel tank, ---- turn it this way when y'all want to start it, ....... and the other way after you finish. It's a safety thang, ...... same on all propane powered forks.
I'll have a lil' talk with this one before I go, -- she shouldn't give y'all any more problems. Just don't yell at 'er". Forks can be sensitive.

The head-honcho looked puzzled.
"Are you telling me that you're familiar with forklifts and know how to operate them"? he questioned.

"Oh, hail yeah.
That's part of my job, knowin' how.
You'd just adjust the forks to go in the open area of the pallet and lift the whole pallet load and back 'er on out.
Budda-Bing, Budda-Bang!
One forklift driver could unload a load like yours in, oh, ............... forty-five minutes, --- easy, ---- thirty minutes if they're really good and organized.
ShuX HowdY!
That might be an even better idea than uniforms".

Head-Honcho, eyes now closed, head tilted back, whined, "Why didn't you tell us you knew how to operate a forklift"?

"Hmmmmmmmm, ---- ya know, it's probably for the same reason y'all didn't ask me.
Ya reckon".

That bein' said, our driver made his exit, wavin' so-long, with a smile on his face, ---- which some say was more like a she-hit eatin' grin. Whatever, it turned into laughter once our driver was enclosed within the cab of his Big truck, wize-guy that he is.

Bein' the exclusive transporter for the company that manufactures the product that the consignee receives, those folks there really had no choice. They had to work with us if they wanted to continue receivin' that product.
Which they did.
All they needed was a pallet jack, and one person to tailgate the pallets for the forklift driver. Rumor has it that the next driver who delivered there personally instructed the Head-Honcho on the operation of their forklift, and it turns out that he enjoys it so much that he, and one of the younger office workers now handle the unloading. But not before warmly greeting our drivers and having a secretary fetch coffee and doughnuts, and ushers 'em to a comfortable lounge area while waiting to be unloaded.

Each time a driver delivers there for the first time, the Head-Honcho makes it a point to tell the story of his first encounter with our wize-guy driver, and he laughs all the way through it.
"I bet I'm the biggest jerk you've ever heard of", the Head-Honcho is known to say.
We just tell 'em the truth, --- "Not by a long shot, sir. Not even close".

So, as this story illustrates, clearly, SOMEtimes it pays to be one of the
wize-guyz to get a point across.
Believe it,
or not.

Remember, the worst of the worst that will happen to y'all as Big truck truck drivers out thar, will also be the best of the best Star Spangled War Stories that you'll tell over and over to any and all who will listen. Some will even believe y'all's stories. But not all. To the ones who won't believe them, y'all will be just another crazy ol' Big truck truck driver, notorious for gettin' in their dad-burned way out thar on the highways.
Dang ya!

Forgive 'em.
For they know not the extent of their ignorance.
Maybe, someday, one of those wize-guyz will clue 'em in.
I almost enjoy doin' that as much as I enjoy drivin' Big trucks.
And rarely, ever, miss an opportunity to demonstrate my wize-guy, ...... uhhhhh,.....
talent?
Abilities?
I'll let y'all pick which word fits.
Or, make up your own word that y'all think fits better, (if y'all are a wize-guy in trainin').