Let nothing you dismay...

I knew I wouldn't be home for Christmas.

They offered to route me in, but I would've lost a day or two's pay. Last year I would have taken them up on it. But there isn't nearly as much reason to come home these days,* so I let it slide. Besides, they were having enough trouble getting people home who really needed to be.

So, on Christmas Eve I got up, had a hearty breakfast. I knew I had time for a hearty breakfast, since my next load could be picked up anytime in the next three or four days. And you never know when your next leisurely meal will be possible. so why not take the time?

Having enjoyed the food and the warmth, I trundled down the road to the next town and pulled into the appropriate factory.

It was closed for the holidays.

Now why did that surprise me?

No matter. This was a problem. You see, I wasn't going to be home for Christmas, but I was scheduled to be home sometime the day after. The irony of this aside, it really was important for me to get there. I've discussed the way this slip seat thing works before, so I'll just cover the relevant part now: If I don't get home on time, the next driver can't take the truck out on time. My extra time on the road cheats him out of his time on the road. Not acceptable, if I can avoid it.

So I gave my dispatcher the good news, and he set out to find me another load. No problem, right? After all, it was the holidays. And I doubt he had more than five or ten times the normal amount of trucks on his board. Piece of cake...

It only took him half a day. And I managed to get to the customer just in time to get loaded, get out, and get a safe and proper distance down the road** before I had to shut down for the night. That only left us with one problem for the morning: I couldn't take that load to its destination. It was going way past my home terminal, and not exactly in the right direction. So I took it to the nearest place where my dispatcher had a chance of finding someone else I could pass it on to.

On Christmas day. Right.

After some thought, my dispatcher asked me if I had any suggestions. I did a little math and said something like "Well, I can get it as far as Atlanta, if that's not too far out of route."

He said something like "On Christmas Day? If it gets where it's going on time, there is no such thing as 'out of route.' If you get it there sometime before midnight that's fine."

I said something like "Sounds good to me."

Then I ate.

I had been planning on that anyway. Due to one of those obscure hours things, I wasn't going to be able to drive for a couple of hours anyway. So I'd managed to borrow a company car to go to a restaurant. Then the guy in charge of the car said, "Where are you going? There won't be a restaurant open anywhere in town, you know. It's Christmas."

I felt so foolish.

Then he said, "You do know there's gonna be Christmas dinner here in an hour or so, don't you?"

What?

Turned out a driver who lived in the area was bringing dinner for any driver stranded at the terminal. And he'd be there before I could take the truck out again. So why was I looking for a Waffle House or something?

I really didn't have a good answer. So I gave him back the key and got out my Santa hat.*** Then I had some of the best turkey I've had in a good while, with fixin's to match. Thanked the kind folks, got in my truck, and started south.

And that's why I was home for Christmas after all. An hour or two of it, anyway.

The first white Christmas in Atlanta since the Nineteenth Century, I'm told.

I'll take it.

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*Now that I don't have a wife waiting for me. That's just informational, in case there are any newcomers. We won't dwell on it...

**For reasons that take to long to explain, some loads have special rules--like how many miles you have to drive before you can stop.

**Long story. Short form: it was the only warm hat I could find when I was heading out the door this week. At least it was the right season for it...