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the ramblings of the girl and the truck driver #8

The truckdriver:

Last week I drove 3200 miles.  A couple of long runs through parts of new Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho and Washington.  After what seemed a very short weekend rest, I get back into the truck Sunday morning, not alone.  The girl is with me.  Very good.

We each have our own cooler, each of us eats planned meals, not the same as one another.  Usually between 5 or 6 I eat breakfast, this is 2 or more hours earlier than she.  When I have my lunch, she has tea and toast.  Most afternoons she takes a snack, I drink more coffee.

As I ramble here, it’s midweek, we are in Tulsa Oklahoma and parked for the night.  We sit parked, I have the tractor facing traffic, wrong.  Wrong and just right so as to keep the pillow side of our bed against the shoulder, the quieter side.  Also, the truck is positioned at a defunct rail crossing and next to a vacant looking lot surrounded by chain link.  I’m all about finding the quiet places to rest.


The girl:

Driving in the freezing rain, we get to our next load about 3pm and are told we won’t be loaded until tomorrow morning.

We’re in Tulsa, Oklahoma surrounded by warehouses, barbed wire fence, train tracks that no longer carry trains and more big trucks.  A cold, rainy, frozen day and nowhere to go.  We each write, then climb into the sleeper to watch a movie until dinner time.

The next morning, he moves the truck up to the gate so that they know we are ready to be loaded.  It’s 8:15 and we quietly talk in the truck and look out at the piles of plastic pipe in the rain, we are still waiting to be loaded.  He gently reminds himself and me, “it’s not all about us, is it”.

More profound words have never been spoken.


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