F5

I received a call on Wednesday of last week from a company I'm semi-aware of but haven't applied to yet. I think I was considering it. Or maybe not. I hadn't had time to think about it, actually. Anyway, I called them on my first lunch break on Friday and left a message with the time of my second lunch break for them to call back since I could only reach a voicemail. One of the main reasons I hadn't applied with this company was the fact there were no open position listings on any of the five or six different employment engines I've got my resume posted to. It didn't seem like they needed anyone for anything. I'd rather not waste my time if I can help it, so I didn't bother with it. Anyway, someone in HR for the company had seen my resume on one of those many employment sites and wanted me to interview for a position. My training at Propaganda, Inc. was in Week 3 with one week remaining. Training hours were Monday through Friday 0900-1800. The administration for this alternative company maintained the same work schedule. In order for me to interview with them, I would have to miss work at Propaganda, Inc. I was a little concerned about that prospect, but... not terribly.

	"When? Monday? Sure. 8am is brilliant. Two hours for the interview? I can do that." Propaganda, Inc. disagreed. "You can't do that." "I can't tell you in advance that I might be a little late coming in on Monday and then make up whatever time is lost that day? Which part of that can't I do, the being late on Monday or the making the time up?" "You can't do any of it. If you're going to be late, don't bother coming in. Come on time or don't come at all." "Well then. That's settled. See you Tuesday then." The interview began as a fairly standard interview for one basic position and developed into a first interview for another position entirely. Due to the technical nature of the position I talked myself into being considered for, I needed at least a second interview with a program director. This would happen the following day at noon. Again some concern, but not much. I smiled, agreed, and later called Propaganda, Inc. "Hey... about me coming to work tomorrow... Not actually going to happen as it turns out. Should we try for Wednesday?" "If you're not here tomorrow, you won't have a job here." "Oh. That's rather dramatic. Alright then. I'll be there Wednesday to turn in all company property currently in my possession and collect the first of my final paychecks."
Normally I would drag this out, build the suspense, whatever. I'll make an exception this time: I was offered the job. Huge surprise there. I knew that would be the outcome. I destroy interviews. I'm a very likable person with very employable qualities. The risk was definitely worth it. Tech support is a better fit for me than political fund raiser and fear monger. The only drawback is training class won't start for another two weeks and I'm officially unemployed again thanks to Propaganda, Inc's refusal to be even slightly flexible with the schedule this week. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to find something to entertain myself with in the meantime. One good thing about the new job is it has the same professional dress code as Propaganda, Inc. so I've got my wardrobe ready for October 31. Oh yeah. My first day is Halloween. Halloween! Trick or treat. That's freaking hilarious.
	I'm moderately excited about all the paid training I'll be receiving for this job. I can't wait to learn and know all sorts of technological troubleshooting bullshit. Freaking awesome. Can not wait. Super freaking excited. Also, it's more money than the other thing. I think I probably would have done this for less to just not have to go back to Propaganda, Inc. Actually, I know I would have. Don't have to think about it. The best part of this is the fact that I didn't have to do much of anything to make it happen. I definitely prefer being recruited to having to do the whole ridiculous job search song and dance - which wasn't getting me anywhere anyway. Anyway, I'm happy and soon to be employed again and I'll even probably be doing something I'll actually enjoy. I think I'll close with a little tech support humor. Enjoy.

Persuasion is just Coercion having a casual day.

	Working in a call center is... loud and annoying and incredibly boring. All of that is brand new information, I know. I was just as shocked as you probably are now. Brace yourself for another surprise: I'm really good at talking complete strangers into giving me their money. I wish I had known that before. I wouldn't have bothered with the job. I would have simply cracked open a phone book and started dialing numbers. I would definitely consider myself a charity case at this point. But, it's getting better. I'm no longer non-profit. That's a serious upgrade. Breaking even would have been an upgrade, actually. So, everything else is excess. Never thought I'd consider an extra dollar as excess. I'm getting used to living well within my means. It's about time, I suppose.
I average about 1500 calls each day. That is a ridiculous number of phone calls, I know. Nearly 80% of those calls end within a matter of seconds when the person hangs up on me in mid-sentence. This actually doesn't even bother me. I'd rather be hung up on than have to waste my time trying to convince someone that I'm not a con artist while I try to con them out of their money - whatever the magic dollar amount for the moment happens to be. I've only had a very few belligerent individuals, which is surprising. I might have one each day that either wants to heatedly and poorly debate the issue with me or just wants to release their stress from the day by screaming, ranting, and raving at me. It's much easier to deal with people like this on the phone than it is in person. It's almost not even real to me when it happens over the phone. I just don't care.
	I like the dress code. Let me clarify that: Now that I completely understand it, I like the dress code. There was some confusion on my part. There's about twelve pages that explains this incredibly elaborate dress code. It became painfully obvious on my first day of orientation that I had somehow misread the dress code and was only dressed appropriately for a female employee. It sounds much worse than it actually was, but it was still moderately embarrassing and awkward for me. Anyway, I've really missed being able to dress up for work rather than down. I really do enjoy dressing the part. It compliments my pseudo-elitism and mock snobbery perfectly. To be perfectly honest, it just makes me feel better about everything. I also take everything a little more seriously when I'm dressed so smartly. It's impossible for me to ever take anything entirely serious, but this gets me as close as I'm ever going to get to absolute seriousness. Also, I look really good in this wardrobe, so... that's the only reason I need to do anything. I can be incredibly superficial and vain. But, you can't argue with the results. Presentation is everything when you're selling ideas. I mean, it's not like there's an actual product here. It's all make believe. I'm a magician, conjuring up dreams and lies and half-truths and propaganda and campaign slogans and party rhetoric and fear and hope... I'm a mathematician calculating and playing the odds. A prophet for profit, a silver-tongued devil paying lip service to your favorite cause or movement, a communicator. That's the politically correct term, by the way. We're communicators. I thought that was somewhat ridiculous. I know what I am and communicator is the very least of it.
This Tuesday is my first team meeting/potluck dinner. My new supervisor loves to cook and he organizes these events for his teams constantly. Participation, of course, is mandatory. I like the idea of it, I guess, just not the actuality. I have no freaking idea what I'm going to make/take for this. I'm still working it out. I have two days to figure something out. Also, the fitness center was a little disappointing. It might be slightly larger than the fitness room in the clubhouse for my community. I may still use it, but it definitely wasn't what I had expected. Serious let down there.
	"If you don't give me $200 right now... Obama is going to eat your baby!!! He may already be inside your home! But it's not too late, if you act now, we can stop him! I just need your 16 digit credit card number followed by expiration month and year..." Ok, not quite, but sometimes it feels like that. You wouldn't believe the things they pay me to say. I hardly believe it, sometimes. The scripts are... interesting. See also: aggro, intense, propaganda. There are some incredibly bold and horrifying statements that I make repeatedly throughout the day. I don't even hear the words I'm saying most of the time. Which is good, because I'd probably choke to death on my own bullshit. This has been a very educational experience already. I didn't realize how susceptible people are to scare tactics, sensationalism, fear mongering, propaganda, yellow journalism. It's as equally amazing as it is sad. It's almost like a parody or farce, but it's real. I can't reconcile the absurd reality of it.
I feel like a spy. I feel like I'm deep under cover and behind enemy lines. Everyone around me is ultra-conservative, highly religious, and militantly anti-... Well, anti-just-about-everything-I-am. It's awkward. I don't say too much to my co-workers. If they initiate conversations with me, I try to keep my responses short, impersonal, and vague. That relieves me from the burden of having to lie to everyone all the time. I'm the quiet guy who saves it all for his clients/donors. I honestly don't have a word to spare for anyone else, so this isn't inaccurate. After spending all day long on the phone trying to persuade people to part with their money, there's not a whole lot left of me. Also, I really don't want my personal life and professional life to even be aware of each other. They seriously need to be compartmentalized and segregated. This isn't a new approach for me, but it's never been more true or necessary. Not that I have much of a personal life these days. I sleep the majority of the time I'm not working. Unfortunately, I know my lines so well that I can and do recite them in my sleep. I have a lot of political dreams now in which I'm debating any number of issues with various celebrity guest opponents. I don't remember the identity of any of these famous speakers when I wake up, I just know they're all dead. I really don't want to know what that means, if anything. I hope it doesn't mean anything other than I'm completely psychotic or over-stimulated by the propaganda produced by my new employer. Speaking of which, I think I'll refer to my new employer as Propaganda, Inc. Very fitting.

I am Jack's lowered standards.

I had the interview for the telemarketing thing yesterday afternoon. I'm officially employed again. Huge shock. It seemed like an actual job interview. The woman asked me questions about my career goals, work experience, availability, and all that other good stuff. It definitely felt like an actual job interview. It wasn't though. It was a formality. It was all smoke and mirrors. I can't even imagine what the turn-over rate for that place must be. They seriously can't afford to not hire anyone, much less me. The system would crash. You have to feed the beast constantly to keep it from starving to death. It's basic math - and you know how I love the absolute efficiency of mathematics. You have to add more than you subtract, because you can't have a negative number of employees in a real world scenario. Also, if the turn-over rate is as high as I think it is, it's beyond my simple addition and subtraction balancing act. It's multiplication tables and long division. Obviously, they can't afford to not hire anyone - much less me. All I really had to do was show up, go through the motions, and accept the inevitable offer.

Despite all this, I'm still happy about having a job again. Any job is better than no job at all, especially after almost an entire year of unemployment broken up by incredibly short periods of failed training. Seriously, I'd have accepted any job offer at all if it started as immediately as this one will. Training starts on Monday. It'll continue for four exciting weeks. It'll be full time employment - both during training and after. That means full benefits almost immediately after completing the training program.

I'm also a little excited about the on-site fitness facility. I think that will be the best part of this new job. I'm definitely going to take full advantage of that perk for however long I remain employed with this company. I need someway to make up for how very little I'll be getting paid for this wonderful new job of mine.

I'm not actually a robot. I'm just wicked smawt.

I'm a little disappointed I didn't have a chance to talk about my orientation process before leaving the company. It was actually alot of fun. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was a little unhappy about having to share my hotel room with another hopeful future employee, but that turned out to be unfounded. He was still awake when I arrived at nearly midnight on Friday. Despite class starting at 7am the following morning, I purposely left home as late as possible in order to spend as little time as I could at the hotel that first night. Besides, I was insanely excited and nervous about my first day of orientation and wouldn't have managed more than an hour or two of sleep anyway. I just can't calm down enough to sleep the night before important events. This is especially true the night before job interviews, exams, and my first day of work/school. I was relieved that he was still awake when I arrived, because I didn't want to try to navigate the room in the dark or sit/lay there all night wide awake and waiting for the time to catch the shuttle to orientation. My roommate turned out to be a very quiet, polite, foreign man. His English was excellent, but we didn't talk very much. We both sat on our respective twin-sized beds and worked silently on our laptops all night. This was our routine for the entire week we were together. My only complaint is that he took nearly an hour in the bathroom every morning. After the first morning, I knew to take my showers at night. It was a simple matter of scheduling. Easy fix. There were no other problems. We were perfectly compatible.

The classroom time was mildly interesting. My favorite moment was when the classroom instructor actually used "mathematical anomaly" naturally and correctly in a sentence. I maintained a 100% average until the final exam when I actually made a mistake. I had prepared myself for this possability in advance and was able to accept it with minimal obsessing. Someone had a theory about my flawless success on the exams up until that point and even regarding my slight falter on the final.

"You have a photographic memory, don't you?"

I denied this, which only served to increase the intensity of his belief and awe.

"I knew it. There was a typo in the book, right? That's why you missed the question. It was worded differently or there was a mistake in the learning material. I get it. You're like a computer. Garbage in, garbage out. That's bullshit, man. You shouldn't be penalized for that. That's amazing. I wish I was like that. Do you remember every single thing? Right, nevermind. Froget I asked that. Of course not. You must have a way to only retain important information and purge all irrelevant data. Can you rewrite over data or is it copy protected forever?"

"I don't know what to say. I'm not a robot and I don't really want to talk about this anymore."

He knowingly winked and dropped the conversation, but I caught him on quite a few occasions staring at me in wonder and confusion after that. This guy was the only other person - except for me and my roommate - who wasn't from the Boston (Baw-stin) area. It was incredibly difficult to keep myself from mimicing that accent and bringing it back home with me, especially with them all calling me "wicked smawt" after the first few days of classroom time. It was just as difficult not adopting my roommate's accent. The fact that he didn't talk very much - way more than me, but still hardly ever - helped dramatically. I still caught myself a number of times matching his pronounciation and sentence structure. This tended to happen nearly ten times as much when conversing with the Boston boys. I was convinced I would never pronounce another r in my life by the end of orientation. Neva eva again. Luckily, that's not the case.

At any rate, the classroom was fairly standard and boring. I absorbed a great deal of useful information, however. There is simply no comparing this training program with the one I endured with the previous company. I'm not even inclined to refer to that experience as involving any actual training. It was just long and horrible. This was short and pleasant. They also provided us with the latest edition of the American road atlas and proper work boots which are both slip and oil resistant. Score.

The actual driving part of the orientation process was much more interesting, by far. My road instructor resembled actor Dean Winters (of Rescue Me fame and most recently known for his portrayal of Mayhem for the Allstate advertising campaign) in physical appearance, voice, and mannerisms. It was beyond awesome. I felt bad for my roommate when he was paired with the ball-busting asshole everyone hated/feared. Then I decided it was better him than me. He could fake a language barrier or something - which he later confessed to doing a number of times. I was very glad to have Mayhem. My first encounter with him was a little awkward, however. Actually, it was beyond awkard.

We had actually met the day before and reviewed mutual expectations for the driving evaluation process. This was the first time we were actually going to do anything involving moving a truck. I was a little nervous, but before I could even turn the key he said he needed a moment to address a personal matter. I replied that I was in no hurry and it was perfectly fine.

"It's unfortunate, but it just has to be done. Should only take a moment."

From his tone, I almost expected the phone call he was making to end with the conclusion of his current relationship. As innappropriate as that might have been, it would have probably been less awkward than what actually happened.

"Hello. I need to schedule an appointment for a feline euthanasia."

This, of course, made it incredibly difficult for me to maintain my composure. I bit my tongue and remained stoic. Unfortunately, poor cell phone reception made this increasingly problematic.

"I need to schedule a feline euthanasia! Euthanasia! No, I'm not calling about the youth of Asia. Why would anyone call an animal shelter to talk about that? That's ridiculous. Euthanasia for my cat, that's what I'm calling about. Right. I need my cat put to sleep. Ok, transfer me. Yes, I'll hold."

I progressed to biting my lip by this point.

"This is horrible. It's like a really bad fucking improv skit. I can't believe this. Fucking bitch. I don't know how else to say it. How else can I say that? Un-fucking-believable. I'm sorry about this. I meant to do this earlier, but I had to deal with work related things during lunch. I just really need to get this sorted out and taken care of."

I shrugged. I didn't want to chance trying to say something and end up laughing hysterically. I knew it would be impossible to stop myself once I started. I tried to smile and managed a smirk. It was better than laughing, I suppose. It was exactly like a bad fucking improv skit, but it was hilarious. It was fantastically hilarious and horrible.

"Yes, I'm trying to schedule an appointment for my cat. It's her time to leave the planet."

He sighed and explained his problem to the second person.

"She hasn't used the litter box in a week. It's not a sanitary issue, either. I keep it cleaned out. It's been empty for a week and she still hasn't had a bowel movement. She is visibly bloated. I know she has to shit, but she can't. I don't know what else I can do for her. It's just her time and I'm fine with that. Well, I'm not fine with it, but... It's her time to leave the planet. I'd like this to happen as soon as possible. I don't like seeing her like this. Right. Uh, I don't know. I hadn't thought that far into it. I guess I can take the body with me and bury it somewhere. No, that's not necessary. Do you do that? Animal cremation? Oh, well then. Why bring it up? No, I'll take the body with me. Do you have a box or do I need to bring my own? I think I have a shoe box that would work."

I didn't laugh once. I'm proud of my obvious self-control in that situation. I honestly didn't think I could keep it together through that entire phone call or even after. It was a perfect tension release. It was impossible to take anything too seriously after that.

This is still my favorite color.

Since I won't be needing the whole road sign theme any longer, I went back to my roots with a very minimal look with wonderful orange accents. I also added a little foreshadow by way of the background image as to what my new source of income will be for the time being.

If you guessed 'telemarketing', you are correct - but only if you answered in the form of a question and a rhetorical one at that. The correct response should be something like:

Telemarketing?!?!?!?!

I'm desperate for a job and I need that job to start right now. I really don't have time for the whole pursuit of employment shell game right now. I don't have weeks to fill out applications, fax or hand deliver resumes, call to inquire about the status of my application, hopefully schedule an interview during that phone call or a later follow up phone call, woo and impress and negotiate terms during the actual interview, wait for the call back while trying to maintain the perfect balance between desperate and disinterested by not calling them until the exact precise moment, and blah blah blah right now. I need a job immediately and this is one of few jobs that is always hiring and will have me working in days rather than weeks.

I don't officially have the job yet. I just have an interview for Monday. I'm not all that concerned about it. Interviews for jobs like these are formalities at best.

I have submitted about twenty applications. That number does not include this job since I didn't fill out an application for this job. I just dialed a number and answered a few questions over the phone. That's how easy it was and perfect for my situation. The job offers thirty days of paid training - which seems a little absurd and excessive to me, but whatever - which I will be using to pursue those twenty other employment opportunities while collecting a paycheck for doing what already comes naturally to me. It's an obvious bastardization, but desperate times call for equally desperate measures.

I was given the option to enter either the commercial or non-profit program. I chose non-profit because I really rather not be cold-calling people and trying to sell them ridiculous products and services. The non-profit programs available were religious, humanitarian, and political groups. I believe it all involves fundraising. I'll decide which of the three programs to join on Monday, or it might actually be chosen for me. I don't actually have a preference. It's all different shades of green.

So... There's that. Also, I haven't told anyone yet about any of this. I really don't feel like explaining any of this. Maybe I'll break the news to the family after my interview - depending on how it goes. At any rate, their knowledge of the situation and reaction to it are not much of a priority at the moment. My only priority is getting a job - any job at all. I should have that taken care of in a few days.

Common Senseless.

The verdict is in. This has all been a mistake.

There is a part of my brain that does not work very well. I have serious difficulty with anything involving estimation. For concrete examples, it is rather difficult for me to judge distances or dimensions or age. These might seem like simple concepts to the average person, but they are nearly impossible for me. I don't guess, I know things. In other words, I measure, record, analyze. I don't estimate. I can't estimate. That is not how my brain works. I either know something or I don't. There is no gray ambiguous area. When I make an "educated guess", it's not actually a guess. While I can accept two contradictory ideas/theories/concepts as both being simultaneously true/untrue, I can not deal with maybe. It's a shortcoming that has gotten me into trouble before and it continues to cause problems for me now. It's a trade off that I've come to accept. If I were able to choose, I'd keep my brain exactly the way it is.

Unfortunately, I need this ability to perform my job safely and efficiently. There are situations where this skill is critical. I found myself in one of these situations this week. While the results were not disastrous this time, that will not always be the case. This week was a definite wake-up call for me. I have come to the tragic conclusion that I can not perform this job safely lacking this very basic, but essential, ability. I was not the only one to come to this conclusion.

Sadly, I no longer have a job or rewarding/challenging new career. It's entirely my fault, too, for not anticipating this. I just didn't foresee this outcome. Obviously, I wouldn't have wasted the last five months pursuing this career path if I had.

It's all incredibly unfortunate and sad. I'm taking it all surprisingly well. I'm simply taking all this negative energy and channeling it back into finding another job as quickly as possible.

Conditional Job Offer.

Congratulations! [?] is proud to extend you a conditional offer of employment as a driver associate.

Finally got the confirmation email of my conditional job offer. In order to become fully employed by the company, I need to jump through several hoops. I've already managed some of them: hair follicle drug screen, DOT physical - using my recent DOT physical from CDL school a few months ago, and background checks for the states of Texas, Alaska, West Virginia, and Ohio. I am scheduled to attend orientation from 8/3 - 8/9 in Pennsylvania. I will get some local drive time, train in virtual simulators, review electronic logging, practice trip planning, and take a road test which will include coupling/uncoupling a trailer, pre-trip inspection, and a 15-20 minute drive through town to ensure I am a safe enough driver to be allowed to go back out on the road for 4-6 weeks with an actual trainer again - for real this time.

Anyway, I'm excited to be almost employed again. I'm also excited that my pay during orientation and over-the-road training will be double what it was with the previous company. I might actually be able to survive on that. Possibly pay all of my bills rather than prioritizing by due date and amount. I'll also be entitled to mileage to and from orientation. They're even going to feed me twice a day. The less I have to worry about, the better off I'll be. I will have a roommate during orientation. I don't mind that so much. It's only a week. I've dealt with worse for longer, afterall. Besides, I'll be too busy learning to be bothered too much with anything else. It's a few hours a day and then a night of sleeping. No big deal.

After orientation, I drive home and enjoy up to a week of home time before starting out on my next over-the-road adventure. This trainer will not act in the capacity of a teammate. He will not be sleeping while I'm driving and yelling unhelpful bullshit through a closed privacy curtain at me. He won't be driving while I'm trying to sleep or just keep myself from being hurled out of my bunk after a sudden hard brake. He will not be driving at all, actually. I will be driving the entire time and he will be awake and engaged with what I'm doing and where we are at all times. He will be actively assisting me with improving my driving and giving me actual real-time feedback. He's there simply to watch and instruct me. That's fine. I prefer that method. I'll actually get some practice docking and possibly performing 45 degree backing - which I had never seen or done until I arrived at orientation in Dallas for the last company and was expected to perform the manuever for my final test. It took several attempts. I was not happy and the instructors were not impressed, but what do you expect when I've never even seen the manuever much less attempted it? I can parallel park a semi like nobody's business, but that's because I've done it hundreds of times now. I barely managed the 45 degree backing insanity. I would like to practice that more than once before attempting it in a real world situation. I don't think it's very safe to turn someone loose after successfully performing a backing manuever once and only after numerous attempts.

Anticipate another travel map shortly. I have added the link on the menu bar. It's all the way at the bottom. Right now, it's fairly plain and only houses the previous travel map. But, that'll change soon enough. Also, I removed the "currently stuck in..." app. It was a decent idea, but I couldn't edit or update it while on the road, so... Forget it. Besides, after being stuck in Dallas for two weeks, no where else really compares or even bothers me. Maybe I'll set up a slide show or something to replace it.

I'm excited about the additional and proper training, but I'm even more excited about the job that'll be waiting for me afterward. I'll be driving for six days and home for two. I could have elected to work five days and be off for two, but then my days home would always be Tuesday and Wednesday. I remember what it was like to never have a weekend off for years. I'd rather have days off that rotate through the week and allow me to occasionally indulge in having a semi-normal social calendar. Also, I make more money with this schedule sine I'm working an additional ten days over the other option.

The distribution center is 1.5 hours from me but that's not a bad drive if you only make it twice a week - or once roundtrip. I'll load up at the distribution center and unload a little at each store until I'm finally empty. Then I'll head back and reload and take it out to another trail of stores. Once I've done it for a few months, I should know all the different rotations and store locations and routes. It'll get easier with time. I'll have benefits after 90 days and a raise after 6 months - barring any accidents, of course. This is a dedicated route, not a regional route - a mistake I made in a previous post. Dedicated routes are highly covetted. You make serious money and are home every week. I'm really, really lucky to get this. I know that and I fully appreciate it.

Again, Congratulations!

Truck it.

Here it is. This is literally everywhere my first adventure in trucking took me. You can zoom in and out. Scroll around by holding down the left mouse button and dragging the world where you want it to go. You can even switch between various map modes. Wicked cool, I know. Also, if you look very closely just to the west of Alberquerque you will see a black dot where there's absolutely nothing - until you zoom in about five or seven times. That's the casino we frequented on our trips back and forth between Los Angeles and Amarillo. We probably spent an entire 48 hours there altogether. Also, if you look just northeast of Dallas you'll notice a marker in the middle of nowhere and a line deadending there. That's how far away they let me go on my first solo trip before sucking me back into the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Cruel. Very cruel.

I'm going to work on getting a supplemental page going to house this map permenantly and also to give me somewhere to put the next one. Oh... foreshadowing. Anticipate that! The link will eventually be placed somewhere on that menu bar on the right somewhere.

Appropriately apathetic.

I've been fairly calm considering that I walked away from the only job I've had in the last nine months after being employed again for not even two. I should be completely freaking out right now, but I'm not.

It was a horrible job. That's a conservative assessment, by the way.

I finished filling out an application with another company - a company that has just recently decided to expand into the region I live in. They need truck drivers, experienced or not. They are currently looking for someone for a regional position which I have now set my sights on. Basically, I'll be driving a constant route (or cycling through a few constant routes) within a 250 mile radius of a distribution center. If I get the job, of course. They really need local drivers so they're attaching signing bonuses and offering tuition reimbursements for these regional jobs normally reserved for someone with at least three years of over-the-road driving experience. Lucky me, I don't have to wait. It's a rare coincidence in my favor and I'm thrilled. I could use the luck reversal.

I returned home Sunday after spending a few incredibly relaxing days in Arkansas with family. It did wonders for my mental health which could have been most accurately described as homicidal previous to arriving in Arkansas. I did not enjoy the two weeks I was trapped in purgatory - more commonly referred to as the Dallas/Fort Worth area. I have no plans of ever returning there, which means I inevitably will at some point. Again. I filled out the application on Monday morning and received a call today from the same recruiter I've been speaking to since before I even realized I was hopelessly stranded in Texas. I have a phone interview tomorrow. It's not a real interview, apparently. It's just to review the information I provided and allow them to collect additional information about my current situation and possibly fitting me into a orientation/training schedule.

The word "orientation" sends cold shivers down my back now. That's lovely. I will now probably always associate that word with my recent experience/experiment in Dallas. It will linger in my subconcious and strike without warning like a latent hypnotic suggestion to start burning everything around me. "Orientation?! Oh, hell no. We're not doing that. I will burn this motherfucker down!!! You won't take me alive!" Hopefully not, but I know how crazy I truly am and can imagine exactly that sort of impulse overwhelming me.

I also have a contingency plan. I filled out an application for a night audit position for a local hotel. It would be nice to get back into something more mathematically oriented (Apparently, even the very word 'orient' in any form provokes an involuntary shudder from me now. Awesome. People are going to think I have Parkinson's when I go to my next orientation.) and closer to home. It would, of course, be a shame to waste my CDL. Which is why this is the back-up plan and not the actual plan, but it's not a bad option. I really enjoyed my time working in the hospitality industry. I also enjoyed working alone at night and not really having to deal with tourists and their bullshit, while still working in the hospitality industry. I believe my recent experience in management and improved mastery of daily financial statements will be an asset to me in this position. But, they haven't called me yet. So, we'll see. It may prove to be a completely moot point by tomorrow afternoon anyway, but I'd rather have an unnecessary fall-back option than not.

I also have to visit my family since they figured out that I'm home now. That should be entertaining. I'll post that experience on the other page.

One more thing, they haven't called to find out where the hell I am yet or why I haven't returned to work. I'm thinking they probably never will. I'm glad we're mutually apathetic about my continued employment. It seems appropriate.

"There's gonna be a second civil war."

"In America, you mean?"
"Oh yes. Probably in the next 4-8 years."
"Why do you believe that?"
"Texas is going to succeed from the nation."
"Why would Texas do that?"
"Obama. If he gets re-elected, it will happen. Might happen anyway."
"Where did you say you were from again?"
"Arkansas. Don't worry, Yankee. You can come hide out with me and the old man. We like you, even if you are one of them."
"Well, thank you. That's a generous offer. Do you think the South might win this time?"
"Hell yes. We've got sockpiles of weapons the North is not aware of. Also, this time isn't gonna be as clean and nice as the last one. Not that I'm implying the last one was clean and nice, because it damn sure wasn't. But, we've got all these terrible weapons and technology this time around. It's going to be a crazy mess. Awful and bloody."
"Wow. That would definitely be a horrible tragedy."

We started off talking about how children these days are out of control because they lack discipline and how the parents won't discipline their children anymore because of the government intervening. We compared and contrasted how things were when we were growing up and how they are now. We explored how things might naturally progress in this manner and what the possible outcomes might be. Then, it moved to national examples of how parents are already killing their children and vice versa. Most of which was somehow associated to the Mexican border being open and the cartel drug traffic coming into this country. This naturally lead to how some states are requiring both English and Spanish be taught to children starting as early as kindergarten. This lead to a sweeping world view of how bad things are getting and how we're on the verge of another world war - are already involved in wars which will be swallowed into the all out impending global war - because of the ever-present nuclear threat from North Korea, our coninued occupation in the Middle East, and a worldwide general hate of all things American. But even in the midst of all that chaos and horror, the real danger is already here. It's us. It's the US.

I really enjoy talking to people like this. I love watching how their minds work and how they rationalize their outrageous beliefs - the more outrageous and fanatical, the better. I find it asolutely fascinating how a conversation about wanting to go home to see your children can digress into an apocalypse.

Perhaps you should call me Jobe.

I think I'm losing my mind.

Let's review how my situation has continued to evolve/devolve:

They gave me a key to a truck in Ohio, but then it took them another day to find me a ride up there to it. That ride-along with another driver fell through after waiting an entire day for the guy to show up. He had been rerouted and no one notified anyone about it.

Next they tried to put me on a bus. When they bought the ticket, they failed to specify which departure time so the bus filled up and I got bumped to the next day.

Then they magically found a truck here for me. I inspected it and found only a few problems with it: missing step on the catwalk, dirty mattress, and fuel on E. It took only a few hours to order the step and replace it. They have a stockpile of new mattresses so that was even easier to replace. The fuel situation would be addressed once I was dispatched.

I was fairly optimistic at this point.

The first time I spoke to my dispatcher, after I had filled out the work order for the truck, amplified this. He seemed delighted to have a new driver and ensured me that he would find a way to get me home once the truck was ready to go. Very exciting, indeed. I just had to call him back when it was ready.

When I called him back, he had no idea who I was. I had to explain for a few minutes who I was and remind him of our previous conversation. Once he remembered me, he said he would start looking for a load heading toward Ohio.

7 hours passed.

It was incredily hot and even with the critically low fuel level, I decided to start the truck and run the a/c at full power for a few minutes - just long enough to cool it down enough for me to sleep and not rotisserie myself. The truck, however, would not start.

Fortunately, I was still at the terminal with a 24/7 maintenance shop and not stranded somewhere less convenient. I filled out a new work order and called for a shuttle to the hotel. Thankfully, I am not expected to sleep in a truck that isn't running and the hotel is paid by the company.

A cynic might wonder about the timing of that mechanical mishap.

I returned today to find the truck still not quite ready, but not before receiving a call/voicemail explaining why I had not been dispatched. My electronic logging system had not been properly set up yet. Why they couldn't have rectified that during the seven hours I sat in the truck waiting is simply beyond my comprehension. But, so many things about this company are. Unfortunately, I'm not permitted to be in or around the truck since it is physically inside the shop now. So, since that department only had a half day today and won't be in again until Monday, it will have to wait until Monday.

Meanwhile, I called my dispatcher to update him on the situation. He couldn't be bothered to care. It is probably possible for him to still dispatch me before the electronic log system is operational - which would simply require me to use paper logs in the meantime - and I would gladly embrace that happening, but I'm sincerely skeptical he will be bothered much y letting me sit here and wait until I can use the electronic logs. On that note, I'm not sure it would bother him if I remained stranded in Dallas indefinitely.

I checked in with the shop and have some good news. The fuel gauge was not working, so I might have some fuel afterall. Which means I will be able to run the a/c if the truck is completely fixed when I check back with them in four hours. The bad news is that if my truck is fixed, I will be expected to sleep in it and will probably spend the next 48 hours in it waiting to set up my electronic log on Monday and then finally get dispatched somewhere.

I simply could not be more excited right now. I'm really hoping it's not fixed and I'll get another night in a hotel to enjoy. That's the best possible scenario for me at this point.

Mobile home.

I have three closets (two with shelves for storage) that all have mesh doors to keep my stuff from flying all over the damn place. I have another one without doors which I believe is where the fridge is meant to go. I have a new mattress for my single bunk that I haven't even opened and removed the plastic yet. And I also have a little bit of humor left from the previous owner. The sticker translates to "No lot lizards." which is a polite way of saying "No whores." It took me a minute to figure it out. I just sat here scratching my head and wondering "What the hell is that ugly thing and why would anyone put a sticker like that on the dash on their truck so they'd have to look right at it all day?!"

Now, I'm just waiting for a dispatch home. I'm seated on the truck, so no more hotel for me. That's only a good thing if I start driving soon.

You can never go home again.

Tomorrow will be Day 8 of my Orientation Purgatory. As if I need another reason to look for another job. It took two weeks to get to Dallas in the first place, even though I should have gone to Ohio for orientation. But, getting me back to Ohio proved too much of a challenge for dispatch, so I was brought here instead. I shouldn't be surprised that it has become this impossible task to get me out of here and back home again. You simply can't get there from here, apparently.

Just imagine what it will be like when I'm actually out on the road and request some home time. If it takes 8 freaking days to maybe get me a ride or bus ticket home from orientation...

By the way, if they are for some reason still unable to accomplish procurring me a way home by tomorrow afternoon, I'll be here until Monday. It's that simple. What a lovely proposal. That would bring my Orientation Purgatory to Day 11 if it were to happen.

Orientation is supposed to be a two day process.

This is a testament to incompetence. This is a metaphor for my entire "training" experience. This is a preview of my future with this company.

I haven't actually done anything since Tuesday morning. Here's my typical day:

0600 Wake-up
0630 Continental breakfast begins
0715 Shuttle leaves for terminal
0730 Orientation begins
1230 Lunch
1300 Orientation resumes
1600 Shuttle departs for hotel

Since I've been assigned a truck and I'm just waiting for a ride back home, I don't do anything at all for the 8.5 hours that I spend at the terminal during orientation other than eat lunch after the first five pointless, boring hours and roam around the dock when sitting quietly in the media room overwhelms me with boredom for the remaining four pointless, boring hours. I'm not allowed to be in the classroom with the new arrivals because I might distract them. So, I'm in the room with the computers until they kick me out of there so the new arrivals can use them for learning. If wasn't for the shuttle rides or food, I wouldn't do anything at all. It looks alot more interesting on paper.

I wouldn't be nearly as frustrated if people who arrived after me didn't keep leaving before me. I counteract this frustration by telling the new arrivals how long I've been here and by warning them of their own possible impending doom of joining me in orientation purgatory...

"...forever and ever and ever."

Captain Cut-Throat speaking.

"I see that you started to fill out an online application, but did not complete it."
"Yes, that's because I don't have any of the necessary information with me. I'm not at home at the moment. I'm actually at orientation for [redacted]."
"Not going so well or have you decided not to apply with us afterall?"
"The former."
"Do you know when you should expect to be back home?"
"Hopefully by the end of this week at the absolute latest."
"Well, I'll note that you're away from home for your OTR training and will complete the application process when you return. Once you do so, we'll be able to set you up with a phone interview."
"That would be fine. I look forward to it. Will that be with you or someone else?"
"It will be with me. You're in my hiring region."
"Excellent. I'd hate to think all this rapport would go to waste."
"Noted. Can I ask what made you decide to apply with us?"
"Only if I can tell you something entirely absurd but true."
"Alright."
"Orange has always been my favorite color."
"Are you serious?"
"Absolutely. You must admit that the color of your fleet is incredibly eye-catching. That's what caught my attention initially. Couple that with all the ad spots on XM radio and I thought I better take a look at what you have to offer."
"That's unusual. I don't think anyone has ever given that reason before."
"Well, I'm probably unusual myself. More than probably to be honest."
"Obviously."

I'm not at all impressed with my experience thus far with my current employer. The training process has been entirely laughable. That would be bad enough without all the damn lies.

Oh, yes. These mother truckers lied. They lied alot. They lied about everything. They continue to lie, too. They smile and lie directly to my face.

Now I know how people feel when I do it. The difference is clear, however. When I do that, it's usually because I don't fucking like you or give a damn how you feel or react. More often than not, it's a reflex and a direct result of being asking an entirely stupid question in the first place. Or, again, I just don't fucking like you. That's your fault, by the way. You should probably work on that if you happen to be one of those people. You're probably not if you're reading this, though. I must admit that I'm incredibly evasive as a standard of practice. I'm a fairly mysterious and secretive individual. I don't like to share, either. Blogging being the obvious exception to those rules. Anyway, enough diverting.

Those mother truckers lie. I don't owe them a damn thing. I feel no allegiance, loyalty, or obligation to these people. I actually feel nothing at all except for relief that I'll be free of them soon - although not soon enough.

Here's the plan:

1. Jump on a truck tomorrow morning with a driver taking a load to Michigan. He will divert his course only about 100 miles to drop me off at the terminal near my house. I will then check in with the terminal manager, find my truck somewhere on the lot, use the key I have already been given to gain access to said truck, perform a complete vehicle inspection on the truck to assess what maintenance must be performed and what physical damage pre-exists to avoid later being held responsible and asked to pay for repairs, fax that inspection back to this terminal, fill out a work order for any maintenance necessary, call my sister, and get a ride home.
2. Complete my online application. It's not for an OTR position. It's actually for a dedicated run. That might actually be better for me, anyway. 6 days out/2 days home is a much better trade off than 1 day at home for every 7 days out. Also, I'm not wild about having to team up with some random person for six months and only make half the pay rate I was originally quoted when I applied. Liars.
3. Complete my phone interview.
4. Enjoy my home time and wait for a call back.
5. Decide what to do from there. Although, if they call, I already know what I'm going to do. I'd be doing it right now if they weren't going to insist on taking all the proper steps.

I've done alot of research during my (now) 7 days of orientation. My current employer has a lot of bad reviews from previous employees. I've also spoken to some current employees at the terminal who are apparently just two short words from being previous employees themselves. "I quit" is the polite version of that scenario. This new company... haven't really found anyone who has anything terrible to say about them. Also, their training program is amazing. They use freaking simulators to put trainees into dangerous, crazy situations without putting them or anyone else into danger. Also, their in-cab technology is actually this generation: gps (trucker friendly version which avoids routing under low clearance over-passes and other dangerous scenarios like that), wireless internet, electronic logging, blahblahblah. Yeah, it's awesome. Their paid orientation pays $200 more than my current orientation. They also offer tuition reimbursement which I'll need when I fail to honor my year of service contract with my current employer. Signing bonus, too, which will help me recover from being unemployed forever and making barely enough money to survive on during my extensive training and orientation process.

Why am I doing this? Why the hell wouldn't I?

This hasn't all been a waste. I did obtain my CDL through a school I wouldn't have been able to afford otherwise but now can through completely different methods. I also got to drive all over this country for five weeks without having to pay for fuel and got paid (extremely poorly) to do so. I will never forget my time with Mickey. I will also never forget to stay as far away from Texas as possible in August. It was an experience, just not the experience I wanted. If things had been different... Well, who cares? It was exactly what it was.

Now it's over. Nearly over, anyway.

I would be sleeping right now, but I'm not allowed to drive at all while riding along with this driver headed to Michigan. Which means I get to spend roughly 36 hours in the sleeper berth of the truck while he drives the thousand miles to take me home. Due to hours of service restrictions, it will take him that long to drive it himself. So, I'll be sleeping alot. I probably won't sleep for two days once I finally get home. I don't mind not driving, though. I wouldn't necessarily want some other random trucker - much less a completely new one straight out of orientation - driving my truck. I can get away with that because I'm talking about myself.

I just realized that in two days I'll be back in a place where everyone won't be refering to me as a yankee. I barely remember what that's like now. I was the only one in orientation. I thought I might have a week off from all the yankee jokes here. I was seriously wrong about that.

"Where are you from? You have an accent."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, you sure do. New Jersey or New York is my guess. Boston, maybe."
"Those are my choices? Really? I don't think so."
"Your attitude says a little different."
"What are you even talking about? Oh, ok. I see. I'm from Ohio. We have corn and the rock and roll hall of fame. It's probably the least bitchy of the northern states, trust me. It's like Iowa only... we have music. I don't know. We're nice people and we don't have accents."
"Well... I'll have to take your word for that, yankee."
"There it is. Awesome. I knew that was coming. I'm going to get that tattooed somewhere."

Everybody's got jokes, too. They insisted I must have some southerner jokes. I seriously don't and I told them that. They didn't believe that either. I honestly don't really spend a whole lot of my time thinking about what's down here. That's not me being a snob, either. Which, I am sometimes. I've just never been south before this. I hadn't expected all the hostility. I didn't have any hostility toward any of the southern states previous to this. I still don't. I'm greatly annoyed by them now. I've learned to speak as little as possible to not make a complete spectacle of myself while I'm down here. It's not always possible, but it definitely helps when it is.

Gut en haben! Speaking of which, I got trouble for that as well. I was filling out the information for my insurance beneficiary. Naturally, I chose my sister. The woman who was in charge of ensuring we filled out all of our paperwork correctly stopped in front of me and pointed at the blank I had just filled in.

"Is that German?"
"Yes, it is."
"Aha. It all makes sense now. Ok, then."
"Wait... What... Nevermind. I don't... I don't even want to know."
"I knew he had an accent." chimed the guy who thought I was from Boston.
"I really don't. I just want to go home."

Almost there. What a long road it has been to simply end up back where I started and a little worse for the wear. But, I do have a plan for that.

Panty Drawer.

"Hello. There's... This drawer in my room is full of panties."

Before I get into that, let's review the last couple of days. Mickey dropped me off in Dallas for my company orientation on Friday morning. We actually arrived the night before, but we slept in the truck and I collected an additional day of training pay - his idea and not a bad one. Since we arrived fairly late into the night on Thursday, they simply would have sent me to the hotel anyway. It would have been nice to go to the hotel simply to be able to shower since we'd been in some really backwoods areas for about a week or so up to that point and I was feeling somewhat like what I imagine a bodega would feel like if it was self-aware. I probably spent twenty to thirty minutes in the shower that night. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be able to shower without making a substantial fuel purchase or leaving an obscene cash towel deposit.

The room was absolutely amazing and, since the orientation center is closed over the weekends, I thoroughly enjoyed my two days off duty. The first of which I spent sleeping for the most part. It's been a month since I've slept in a bed that wasn't bolted into a moving vehicle. Also, the bed in my hotel room is easily three times the size of my bunk and it has five times as many pillows. So, yes, I slept nearly a day in it.

On Sunday I actually inspected the room a little more thoroughly. That's when I made the discovery. The previous tenants had left without their knickers/under garments/sexy underwear.

I thought about calling the front desk and then I thought about the ridiculous statement I'd have to actually make when I did so. I was slightly more concerned about having to actually explain the situation than I was about the situation. So, I closed the drawer and have been ignoring the problem ever since. It's not like I needed to unpack. I've been living out of my luggage for a month now. Besides, all my clothes were dirty anyway. I'd have to do laundry - which I did - before I would have been able to put them into the drawers. Then I'd just have to take them back out every day in case I finished my orientation and they sent me off somewhere directly from the school and at the moment. Which they kept saying might happen, but hasn't yet.

The room is incredibly nice except for that unusual problem. I have to say that I'm blessed with magnificent luck in getting hotel rooms with something completely absurd and off about them.

Monday was good and bad. The road test instructor passed everyone and the backing manuever instructor failed everyone. It was, for all of us, the first time we'd been in or tried to drive an actual automatic. It was incredibly awkward for everyone. It's difficult to understand if you've never driven a truck before, but I'll try to explain it regardless. The automatic transmission for a semi is not like the automatic transmission for a personal vehicle. It can be put into nuetral, drive, or reverse - much like a personal vehicle - but it still operates in the same way as a standard transimission without the operator doing any of the shifting. Confusing, I know. It basically shifts for you. So, in order for the truck to move at a speed of 35mph, the automatic transmission must climb gradually to the proper gear by shifting up six times. This process is sluggish. I can actually shift up to seventh gear faster than the automatic. For one thing, I can start in third gear and shift into fourth then fifth in only a few seconds. The automatic always starts in first. Even with double clutching and flipping the splitter switch before continuing to shift up two more gears from fifth while steadily building speed, I can manually shift faster than the automatic will decide to shift for me. Another thing about the automatic transmission I don't like is the removal of the clutch. The clutch can actually act like a brake without depleting the air pressure reserves for the air brakes. It's very useful during turning manuevers to slightly reduce speed and allow for better control. I coast alot, actually. While turning, approaching a stop light or sign, moving into position at the fuel pump, being weighed while in motion at weigh stations. Alot. We weren't allowed to coast in school, but it's incredibly useful and I do it all the time now. Besides all that, manual transmission is what I know. It's what I've been learning and using for three months now. Then, suddenly, they throw this at me and expect me to just know what the hell I'm doing and do tricks on top of that. I did better than I thought I would when I was told only moments before being expected to do exactly that. It's not awful, but it is awkward. I think it will be very useful when traveling in areas with congested traffic or through towns with frequent traffic stops. The process of down shifting with a standard transmission is a little involved and complicated. I won't explain that for you. You're just going to have to trust me. The automatic can be switched to a type of standard transmission where you simply push in the little selector switch and then more the selector up or down depending on which way you want to shift instead of moving it left or right to select one of the three automatic settings. That's much easier than down shifting with a manual transmission, which I still won't explain.

I reached for the gear shift multiple times on Monday during my short drive through town. The road instructor slapped my hand every time.

"What are you reaching for, man?"
"Oh. Um. Nothing."
"Well, then stop doing it."
"I'm trying."

It's weird. I'll get used to it, but it'll take more than a day. If I even get a truck with an automatic transmission, that is. Apparently, the company phased out 10 speed manual transmission a few years ago, but now they're converting back. So, there's that to consider. I could get a truck with either system. I could drive either. I'm not sure I really have a preference at the moment. I have more experience with manual so I'm biased, but I can see some of the potential of the automatic. It'd definitely make things alot easier not having to shift ever. I don't know.

I completed orientation today. I have been upgraded to a first seat driver. They don't have a truck for me yet. They are actually sending two other guys who were upgraded today to North Carolina to get trucks there. Both of their trucks will have 10 speed manual transmissions. The rest of us, four including myself, are just waiting for trucks. In the meantime, we're staying in the hotel until they figure something out.

It seems to me that if you don't have any available trucks, you should probably stop hiring and training drivers you don't need. Or, if it happens to be a production problem, make the damn trucks faster so that all the drivers you hired and trained will actually be able to perform their new job function.

Seriously, I don't understand. Not that I'm really complaining, because I could stay in this hotel room for another week. I absolutely love it. I have wifi. What else do I really need?

I also have an entire drawer full of someone's unmentionables. I don't know how to feel about that.

Four days. (Three months ago)

Four days until I take a four hour car ride to spend the next four weeks learning a new trade only to spend the four weeks after that paired up with a trainer for hands-on, real-world experience. I want to be excited about this and I sort of am. I'm also a little terrified. I really need this to work out. I need something to work out, anyway, so it might as well be this.



I'm incredibly brave and stupid for doing this. I know it takes equal amounts of those character traits to allow someone to just suddenly decide to abandon one career path for a completely new one - one I have absolutely no experience or working knowledge of, even. Well, I have been studying a little so that's not entirely true. The things I can tell you about air pressure, aerodynamics, fuel efficiency, evasive maneuvers, and general automechanics would blow your damn mind considering I didn't care enough about any of that to know even the most basic elements of those topics two weeks ago. I simply absorb and regurgitate information like this, but only if it interests me and I care to do so. Since this might be my life for awhile, I might as well be competent and excessively knowledgeable.

Maximum difficulty level achieved.

"Wait a minute... How'd you park this truck here, Yankee?"
"How do you think I did it?"
"Well, I'd have to say you pulled in behind the truck in front of us and then that truck behind us pulled up after."
"But..."
"But both these guys been here the whole time. I seen them sitting here when he were coming in."
"So..."
"So, how'd you park this truck here, Yankee?"
"How do you think I did it?"

It's 2am and there are no decent parking places left at any truck stop, including this one. If Mickey hadn't spent over 4 hours feeding the product of two weeks worth of his roadtime into slot machines in New Mexico, we'd have arrived around 9pm instead of 1am. We might have actually had a chance at finding a parking place off the road. Instead, this was the only spot I could find. I had also seen it when we were driving down the road toward the entrance of the truck stop. After fueling, Mickey went inside and told me to try to find a place to park. After circling down every row of the lot, I returned to the two parked trucks on the side of the road directly in front of the convenience store. I sized up the gap between them and grinned. Perfect.

"Well?"
"I parallel parked this truck between these other two already sitting here."
"You did not. Not without a spotter, you didn't. Not in the dark. Not a chance."
"If you say so. It's also raining a little, you should include those bonus difficulty points as well. I want scored correctly and fully."
"Nevermind that now. I really need to know... How'd you park this truck here, Yankee?"
"How do you think I did it?"

More of the same.

"Use that jake brake!"

For two days after I told Mickey to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep, things were fairly good. When I was driving and he was in the sleeper berth, anytime I slowed down or changed lanes he would poke his head out to see what was going on. Unable to correct anything or even comment, his head would immediately disappear again. Those were two very good days. Those days are over now.

"It's on."
"Doesn't feel like it."

As much as I hate to say that phrase of his 'makes my blood boil'... It does. It actually does. It takes every bit of my self-control not to engage both emergency brakes and send his angry ass flying out of his bunk and into the truck cab with me. And as the truck sat precariously on the summit of an incredibly steep decline and he tried to recover his composure - possibly remove the gear shift from his broken rib cage - I'd casually point to the lit indicator light.

"How's it feel now? Does it feel like the damn jake brake is on now? It's feels to me like all the brakes are on."

I'd never actually do it, but I've thought about it. I've thought about it alot. As I mentioned in a previous post, driving for extended periods of time affords me with alot of time to think about things. Most of the time, I think about seriously hurting Mickey. It's practically all I think about for hundreds and hundreds of miles.

He left me at a truck stop in southern California. "Accidentally". Rule #2 of Mickey's truck is: "When you're in the sleeper berth, make sure you leave your shoes in front of the passenger seat. That way no one gets left behind because we'll know the other is on board."

I was wearing my shoes while in the truck stop, so I'm not entirely sure where the confusion was. These aren't my rules. They're his. No shoes = no passenger. Definitely not a terribly complicated concept and definitely not restoring my confidence in the man.

If he keeps his act up, I might "accidentally" return the favor.

Suckers... Maybe?

Suck it.

I found these treats in the Mojave. On the left we have the scorpion sucker with actual dead scorpion inside. These suckers are available in three delicious flavors: apple, blueberry, and strawberry. (Shown in apple.) On the right we have the tequila sucker complete with worm inside. It tastes exactly as you'd expect.

Yummy.

[I'm not sure what went wrong, but I'm going to attempt reposting that photo in another post. Apologies.]

Backseat driver.

''Use that jake brake!''

It's the third time Mickey has yelled this phrase at me. It's also the third time I've needed to activate them, the third mountain descent, and the third time I've had them engaged before he's demanded that I do so. Before I continue, allow me to explain what he's referring to and why he keeps doing so. The jake brake, more commonly referred to as an engine brake by road signs, is a device that is intended to slow or dull the building momentum of a large vehicle as it descends down a sloped roadway such as a mountain. Basically, it is intended to keep your vehicle from reaching dangerous speeds while preserving your air pressure reserve required to active your service brakes via the brake pedal. Without the engine brakes engaged, it is possible to exhaust all of your air pressure by continually and constantly applying the service brakes. When the air pressure becomes extremely low - between 20 to 45 psi - the emergency brakes are then automatically activated and remain locked until the air pressure is built back up. If you're going down at sloped roadway at excessive speeds when this happens, a jackknife or roll make occur. So, Mickey isn't needlessly concerned. However...

''The jake brake is on. They are engaged, active, functioning, working, slowing the vehicle as we speak.''
''You sure about that?''
''Yep. I'm also pretty sure only I know what's going on up here, so... Maybe you should go back to sleep and let me drive.''
''I still don't think you're using the jake brakes.''
''Why don't you get up here and take a look?! Seriously. Either get in the passenger seat and try to tell me what you think once you have some clue as to what's actually happening on the road in front of us and what I'm doing behind this wheel... Or just shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.''

He went back to sleep, apparently. Is it possible I had tried to engage the engine brake and simply been unsuccessful? No, it isn't. There is a tiny indicator light that turns on when the engine brake is turned on. Light on means the engine brake is on. Light off means the engine brake is off. I may not be a genius, but I'm a fairly intelligent, highly educated man. I took Calculus, readers. I think I can handle this simple procedure. In fact, I think anyone who is unable to handle this procedure should never be allowed behind the wheel of anything.

I understand that Mickey has probably had some really terrible trainees. I'm sure he's had students run over curbs, sideswipe vehicles, get stuck under low clearance overpasses, drive into ditches, and destroy all kinds of public and private property. I get that. I'm not one of those idiots and I don't like being treated as though I were.

I also don't like a man who is laying down in his bunk with the privacy/blackout curtain drawn shut acting like he has any damn clue what's happening on the road around us or what I am/am not doing behind the wheel. It's ridiculous. There's no alarm that sounds when I activate the engine brake. Other than the indicator light and a slight slowing of the vehicle (only noticeable when avidly observing the speedometer), there is no way to know that they have been activated. This particular truck has engine brake mufflers applied to silence the usually very loud and distinguishable noise associated with the application of this device, or there would be that to consider. It should also be noted that while the engine brake aids in slowing the truck on descents, it is effective alone. The service brake is still necessary, if at a slightly less rate. I think the engine brake saves you from using the service brake about 30% of what you would without it. Helpful, but only moderately so.

Much like my trainer, the backseat driver.

Cabin fever.

I want my own truck.

I don't want it a month or even weeks from now, either. I want my own truck now. Now, now, now.

I don't know if spending the last eleven days stuck in close quarters with one of the most miserable bastards of all time has finally taken a toll on my patience or if the fact that today was unofficially declared ''offensive joke day'' proved to be too much for me, but I think I've had enough. I almost vomited twice today.

I realize alot of this situation is my fault. At any time, I could have requested another trainer. I still can, of course. But, there's no garauntee the next one won't be horrible in completely new, unimaginable ways or in the exact same ways. Also, people talk. I don't want a reputation for being this whiney, difficult bitch. Because, I'm not. I do whine, but not outloud. I blog-bitch about it. That's healthy. I swallow it and then purge it all over the internet whenever an opportune moment presents itself. I'm really surprised that I've already reached my annoyance threshold. It's perplexing. My parody/mimic defense always works. I'm a natural actor. I perform on some level every single day. It's automatic. I often don't even realize just how much of me is simply a combination of defense mechanisms, trained behavior, and facades. This shouldn't be a problem for me, but it is.

I'm not repeting a single joke. Usually, I choose a few of my favorite examples of dialogue to sprinkle throughout my posts, but I'm not going to repeat anything from today. I'm actually actively working on forcing my mind to overwrite the information. But, I have no new data to replace it with. I would memorize a user's manual at this point and worry about overwriting that information later - if only I had one.

Eleven hours of driving allows me alot of time to think, dissect, analyze, rationalize, ponder, obsess...

Then Mickey announced he was considering quitting smoking. He added a byline of ''cold turkey''. I told him that might be good for his health, but I didn't care to still be in the truck whenever he decided to begin that experiment.

Maybe there's an out there. I hope so. He's still thinking about it. He might talk to someone. That would be lovely. I don't care if they upgrade me to my own truck or throw me in with another trainer - long as I don't have to start all the way over. My patience is already exhausted.

Laid over.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Mickey was scheduled to take five days of home time after delivering the load he was hauling when the company called him, ordered him to divert his course to pick me up, and delayed his home time for a few weeks to provide me with at least that much training time. The only good thing to come out of that would be he'd have even more home time to enjoy whenever they decided to grant it to him. Also, I'd start making a paycheck.

He drove the rest of the afternoon/night after picking me up, because the course diversion had made him late and he wanted to make up time if he could. The truck's governor makes that impossible, though. Without momentum from a full trailer and a steep, lengthy decline, the max speed of the truck is 65mph. I didn't mind not driving the first day. I had enough to deal with just settling in and mentally preparing myself for the weeks of training with this man that laid ahead. I was anxious.

A part recall we received after completing delivery left us stranded in Harrisburg for a two day layover. We stayed at the Piñata. It was a fiesta themed hotel run by a Latino family. The shuttle driver had an even more coherent accent than Mickey, but he was a dark, happy, strange, little old man and he was funny to listen to regardless of comprehension.

''Yeah, buddy. (No idea followed by a giggle.) You know what I mean?''
''Yep.''
''Yeah, man. (Not a clue followed by more giggling.)''

The room we stayed in was extremely feminine. All of the wooden surfaces of the room had been painted a very light shade of pink. Mickey was beside himself.

''Look. They got a huge vanity so you can put your makeup on.''
''Damn. I knew I forgot to pack something.''
''Well, that's a shame. Maybe there's some in one of those little pink drawers.''
''Nope. Bible and take-out menus.''
''We sure need those. I'll order some pizza. You better take advantage of the shower while we got one.''
''I definitely will.''

We watched 18 hours of television each day. I watched more television since starting my new job than I ever did while unemployed. The first few days of my training seemed rather pointless, but I get paid whether I do something or absolutely nothing. So, there's that.

''What do you call smoking dope?''

Well, Rule #1 in Mickey's truck is: No whores and no drugs. So...

''I don't know.''
''J.B.Hunt driver with his britches on fire!''

When Mickey catches me off guard with one of his jokes, I do laugh hysterically. This one especially sent me into hysterics. I can only say that it was around 5am and my senses were not all online and active yet. It really wasn't funny, but that's exactly why it was so funny. Most of the time, though, I have to force a pity chuckle.

Mickey hates alot of different groups of people. He hates black people. He hates Latinos. He hates Indians (both people from India and Native Americans). He hates gays, lesbians, bisexuals (which is bullshit and doesn't actually exist, in his opinion), and transgenders (which he won't even talk about specifically and instead refers to them as ''those other things''). He hates liberals. He hates Yankees. He even hates other truck drivers, especially those employed by J.B.Hunt, Schneider, and Swift. It's this last group of people that he jokes about. He literally has thousands of these jokes in his arsenal. I've already heard about one hundred of them and it's only day six.

''How do you separate a J.B.Hunt driver from his student?''
''I don't know.''
''With a crowbar!''
''Heh, heh.'' Too late. I'm fully awake and unamused now.
''You have to pry them apart! With a crowbar!''
''Oh yeah. I get it. Heh, heh. Funny.''

No. Hell to the no. Not at all. Nope.

Mickey

''I'm sorry. I still didn't catch that.''
''At home.''
''Oh. I don't know what I was hearing, but-''
''It's alright. I'm used to dealing with you Yankees and having to repeat myself. I don't speak the Queen's English.''
''I don't think I... Um. Ok. So...''

Filling out forms in my logbook for the first few days of my training was challenging and fun. My trainer, who I will refer to as ''Mickey'' based on his physical similarities to Mickey Rourke (while filming Ironman 2, most specifically), is a Southerner with a very delightful and at times incoherent Southern drawl. Unfortunately, this is the least interesting thing about him.

''Married?''
''No.''
''Ex-wife or girlfriend?''
''Nope.''
''Kids?''
''No.''
''You're a fag!''
''Ha. Yeah. I'm a fag.''
''So, why aren't you-''
''Divorced twice and enjoying the privilege of paying allimony and child support for some careless life decisions?''
''You got a point. So, you're not queer?''
''Are you?''
''Hell no. I don't (something incomprehensible) and that's that.''
''Never can tell.''
''Oh, you can tell most of the time. But some of them are sneaky sonsabitches. They infiltrate our ranks and degrade our society from within. So I always ask. My wife says I'm a racist, homophobic bigot. She says that like it's a bad thing. I don't care what anyone does in private behind closed doors. I just don't care to see it and have it thrown in my face.''
''I agree. Certain things should stay private.''
''You ain't religious, are you?''
''Not especially. I believe in personal accountability.''
''Well, that's alright. Long as you don't get offended easy.''
''I'm not sure you can offend me. Maybe, but I doubt it.''
''We should get along alright then. Long as you're not one of those whiny liberals, because you won't like me much if you are.''
''I used to be. Then I started working for a living.''
''Ain't that the truth!'' He laughed until he choked, then he added, ''God, guns, and country.''
''I can handle that.''

Kinda wish I had a gun to handle, just in case. Luckily, my mind is a tricky, marvelous weapon in its own right and my tongue is always sharp and never needs reloaded. This is going to be very, very interesting.

(...to be continued.)

Congratulations to ME!

I hope that wasn't the easy part.

In any case, I graduated from truck driver training yesterday. I will rehash the events of this past week once I spend a little time catching up on my rest and relaxation. I also need to prepare for the next step of the process, but I have at least a week until I need to really think about anything. That's a very welcome change. I can't wait to do mostly nothing at all for the next seven days.

It's really great to be home finally. It's also really great to have a job - or it will be once I start working and (more importantly) get paid.

In the meantime, I'll upload a photo of my first official trucker hat that I received yesterday for graduating and had signed by all of my various range and road instructors. Enjoy!

Testing: 1, 2, 3.

I don't want to talk about this week, but I will anyway. I've been testing all week with the DOT. Actually, no. I've been testing all week with a subcontracted entity testing on behalf of the DOT. Having passed all my skills tests last week, I made the testing list for Monday. I was #6. #5 and I were on-hold testers, meaning we might not test that day at all and we were not to report to the testing site until told to do so. We were basically just supposed to wait and see what time #4 returned.

#4 returned at 2:45 pm. At that time we asked the instructor in charge of the backing maneuver range we were assigned to if they would be testing anyone else that day. He said they closed at 4pm and they never scheduled a test unless there was at least 2 hours to conduct it in. #5 was more concerned than I. I knew I wasn't going to be tested that day.

Half of an hour later, the lead instructor exited his trailer. This guy never leaves the trailer for any reason except to drive up to the classroom or go to lunch. He started heading toward his vehicle and then he spotted #5 and me. He then came over to us and proceeded to read us the riot act.

''Why didn't you go over and test? I've been looking for you everywhere and I couldn't find either of you? Do you have to be told to do everything? I could have sent someone else over to test if you weren't going over there!''

Several things to address here. First, everything I've done since starting this process has been the direct result of being told to do whatever it might be: pee in a cup, take this written exam, go on break, leave for lunch, drive this truck forward around town, drive this truck backwards on this range. If at any time I'm not where I'm supposed to be and doing whatever I'm supposed to be doing, I can be considered absent/tardy. Two of those and I'm expelled. So, I am always where ever I'm supposed to be and doing whatever I'm supposed to be getting done. Secondly, if you're looking for me and you're not looking for me in the place that I'm assigned to be and haven't moved from except to perform my backing manuevers when it's my turn, to pee, and for lunch, you aren't really looking for me. You won't find me in a filing cabinet or hiding behind your desk. You will, however, see me if you look out of your window - on my designated range for 8 out of the 9 hours of that particular day - in direct view of that office window. Lastly, this failure of communication is entirely your job to rectify and since you are the entire problem, perhaps you should simply fire yourself for being complete incompetent.

I said none of these things. Someone in the crowd that had gathered mentioned the fact that I hadn't moved from the same spot for more than 10 minutes all day. But he was hearing it. Instead, he went on to say:

''Both of you are going to sit in that trailer all day tomorrow where I can keep my eyes on you until I decide to send you over to test.''

I really, really don't appreciate getting shit on for something that wasn't my fault in the first place. But I really, really, really don't appreciate being treated like a child. This situation will be addressed. I garauntee that. I won't bother bringing it up to the president of this location, either. I'll jump a few rungs on the ladder before I file my official complaint.

Needless to say, I didn't sit in that trailer the next day but I didn't pass my test either. I pointed out on the backing manuevers. I was definitely nervous. I requalifed on the range that same day and made it back on the testing list for Wednesday. Except no one bothered to tell me until it was too late again. 2:30pm my range instructor asked me if I had tested yet. I was last on the list but had no idea and they had already stopped testing for the day.

Thursday I was first to test. I passed my backing manuevers but I took a turn too wide and the test was over. My tester didn't like the turn and refused to continue testing. I thought I was home free, but I was mistaken.

Today I tested again. It was a miserable day from the start. Some of the roads were already flooded out before I even arrived at the school. Then they did attendance and I found out I would e testing in that mess. I was not happy about it, but I went for it anyway. Anything for a chance to be done and gone. I did much better than I expected. All that additional practice on the range with my backing manuevers certainly paid off. I know how to correct any problems I might run into now which comes in very handy with the unfamiliar testing trucks. I made it out on the road and about halfway through the course I missed a gear. I tried everything and all of them just hoping to get it back into any gear and then correct myself after. I just couldn't get it back in gear and ended up coasting more than 50 feet for an automatic fail. Everything before and after that was perfect, especially after since I was pissed off and had complete rageful control of the truck. My tester gave me some pointers about how to better recover from that situation and added that he had no doubt I would have no trouble passing on Monday. I guess we'll see.

If I'm being optimistic, I have to say that I'm actually surprised that I was anywhere near ready to test this week and that my rapid progress up to this point - even my increasing success on each official test - has been surprising. If I'm being honest, I was ready to leave this place three or four weeks ago and I'm not looking forward to another weekend in this shithole. I do feel that Monday will be my day to pass this damn thing. Unfortunately, best case scenario will be me having to wait for the BMV to reopen on Tuesday.

Like I said, didn't really want to talk about this week, but I have and I'll just have to make it happen on Monday. Please, let it happen. I'm ready to go home.

Shocks and surprises.

Of course, the moment I decide to bitch about something, the situation naturally resolves itself. The very next morning after my last post, every single instructor spent the first hour of the day with a lucky student who had signed up to take the pre-trip inspection test. Even more surprising than that, I passed mine.

''Well, you know this inside and out.''
''I guess so.''
''You only missed your water pump which is actually gear driven on this truck, not belt driven.''
''Oh. Well. I'm not mechanical at all. I honestly can't tell the difference.''
''Go ahead and point it out. I'll show you how to tell the difference.''
''I don't know what any of this stuff is, honestly.''
''So, what? You just memorized all four pages of the inspection verbatim?''
''Yep, I did exactly that.''

The instructor pointed out each part to me after that. I obviously knew all the required information, but he wanted me to be able to associate that knowledge with the actual parts and pieces. I did, too, but I still honestly can't tell the difference between a belt driven and gear driven component. There's belts all over the damn place in there. Hoses and wires, too. As long as nothing is smoking, leaking, or sparking, I'll drive it. Besides, it's only one point and I'll take it. I can miss up to 10 before I fail, so I don't care.

Which means as of Thursday I've been ready to ''go over the fence'' and officially test with the DOT. The testing site is just on the other side of a chain link fence from our practice range. So when someone's ready to test, they say they're ''going over the fence''. It makes me conjure up ellaborate prison break fantasies. As with the pre-trip inspection hold-up, there are several people waiting to be scheduled for their official test. We've lost alot of time already with the daily tornado warnings/watches and holiday weekends, so it might be a few days until there's any real progress through that long, long waiting list. In the meantime, I get daily practice on the range with my backing manuevers and on the road running the same course through town and over the highway that I'll be following during the official test. The only bad part is the school being closed over the weekend. Today and tomorrow I'll just be hanging out in my motel room and waiting for Monday to come. After that it shouldn't be too long before I have a test date. Monday would be the absolute earliest and Wednesday would be the absolute latest I would expect to get tested. I'm fairly confident at this point that I shouldn't have any trouble passing.

This time last week, that was a different story entirely. I came into last week having still not passed any skills tests (except for the 4 point brake inspection which is meaningless if not coupled with a successful pre-trip inspection) and knew I'd have to pass at least one or face possible expulsion from the school. Monday was a holiday so it was only 1/2 day, there was only one instructor on duty for the five or six of us that actually showed up, and it was all just practice and no qualifications. But Tuesday I passed both my range and road tests and Thursday I aced my pre-trip inspection. This went from being a completely miserable, stressful week to being a shocking, reassuring one. I got everything done that I needed and I'm brimming with confidence now. Again, this time last week was a different story entirely.

In another somewhat random series of events, I might actually know who my co-pilot is going to be for the six months of team driving directly following the six weeks of over-the-road training with a company driver trainer. Of course this individual is still in the early stages of the application process and will be at least a month behind me in the training process, which means I'll probably be able to drive solo after my six week training is over while I wait for him to join me. That means a better paycheck for me while I wait which I won't mind at all. But if it all works out, I won't have to worry about being teamed up with some douche for half a year. That's what is most exciting for me. Knowing that I'll have a tolerable teammate coming will make those six weeks with my driver trainer fly by. I will share the identity of that person when it becomes more of a certainty. One absolute certainty that I can share is the identity of this person will surprise everyone. It certainly surprised me.

I rock outloud. Recognize.

Tuesday was the best day I've had since starting my adventure. After driving on the road for a week with varying success, I finally passed my road test. This afforded me the unexpected pleasure of driving on the highway today. Unspeakably awesome.

After passing my road test on Tuesday and returning from lunch, I also managed to pass backing manuevers twice. I was already ecstatic having passed one skill test and passing a second just rocked my world.

Like I said, Tuesday was the best day.

I passed my 4 point brake test on Friday and again every day since. This test is administered at the end of every road test and pre-trip inspection. So, tons of practice on that and I'll never forget how to do those.

That means I've passed three out of the four skills tests required to be sent to take the official CDL test with the state. Well, sort of. I still need to pass both the road test and backing manuevers with the final instructor for final qualification. Shouldn't be a problem after passing both on Tuesday and again today. Practice, practice, practice.

I still haven't tested on my 400 point pre-trip inspection. The sign-up list for that is insane. The pre-trip inspections take about an hour to perform and, unlike the other skills tests, there really aren't any designated instructors that test students for those. It's just whoever whenever and be lucky enough to get it done. Far more aggravating than that system of testing is the pre-trip inspection itself. There are 100 separate parts to identify and each of those has about four or five things to check. The wording of what to check for on each part must be verbatim. Here's my problem: similar parts utilize different verbage.

Example:
Part X
-Not bent, broken, or missing.
Part Y
-Not cracked, damaged, or broken.
Part Z
-Not cracked, bent, or broken.

All of these parts are pieces of the same operating system and the other things to check on each part are completely identical. Why the symantics?! I don't know and it seems completely ridiculous to me. The only way I can compensate is by using all of the buzzwords.

Not cracked, damaged, bent, broken, or missing.

Yeah. Apparently you only lose points for what you omit, you don't lose any points for checking something needlessly. So... I'll check for every buzzword possible. It's assinine, but I'll manage it. I will jump through whatever hoop necessary to get this done and get out of here.

I'm actually alot closer than I thought I would be right now. I'm legitimately surprised by my progress. I'm not surprised by how much I love driving these beasts. I didn't fully experience that until this morning on the highway. All I can say is:

Oh. My.