Parking can be fun, redux

Near Philadelphia, there is a village. There you can make make a right turn that misses a traffic-light post by a good two inches (Well, maybe four...). If you don't mind taking up the whole road you're turning into (including both oncoming lanes-- watching everyone frantically back up while inaudibly discussing your ancestry could be entertaining, I guess, if you had a certain mindset...)

You got around? Good. Now take the next right. Yeah, it's a residential street. Still easier than that first place I told you about, right?

And there's the customer on your right. Note the steep hill. And the gate. And the cars lined up on either side of the gate.

Oh, yeah, and the total lack of a place to turn around. This will be a ninety-plus degree back to your blind side. Have a good time.

What d'you mean, the street's too narrow? I got in there! And it only took me half an hour!

Well, yeah, I did pull up into the parking lot of that apartment house across the street there. Partway, anyhow--it wouldn't hold the whole truck. And I didn't tear up the truck OR the retaining wall!

(The caretaker was impressed, too. "I don't know how you got into that position," he said, "but I'm amazed that you got back out of it."

(Hmm. Maybe I won't mention that...)

Ah! You made it! Congratulations! Now you just back up to the dock so they can unload you and--

Oh, right. No loading dock. And no ramp. And no unloading equipment. All the trucks before had a lift gate.

(They were quite a bit smaller, too. Or so I was told. Apparently this is a new account for us. And I think the salesman skimped a bit on the questions...)

When I was here, they ended up borrowing a forklift from a nearby construction site. Maybe he's there this time, too. Hope so.

Don't worry. Getting out is a little safer. And you'll only tick off half as many people blocking traffic. And the customer will be glad to see you go.

And this didn't happen to you anyway. After it happened to me, I sent a message to the Company--telling them exactly how dangerous this place was. And we know they care more about safety than profit. And that they respect their drivers' judgment on matters like this.

Right?

Parking can be fun

It's not always the places that threaten life and limb that leave you shaking. There's also the places where nobody's in danger, but there's lots of room for lawyers if you screw up. And plenty of time to see disaster looming.

Here, for instance.

In the middle of a small mountain town's business district, you make a 120-degree turn onto Main Street. Follow it as it winds out of town, past the hillside homes whose porches don't QUITE overhang the street. Make a hard right turn onto a side street that's about ten feet longer than your truck, and stop.

No, you're not done yet. See that street right there on your left?

Yes, the one the same width as your truck. With the crushed fencepost, and the hole where other trucks have broken through the asphalt.

No, that's not some small house's neglected driveway. That's a street. And you're going to turn left on it. With your left tandems dropping gently into that pothole and your trailer frame skimming the ruins of that chain-link fence, while your right front fender barely misses that old lady's picket fence in front of you.

You DID miss it, didn't you?

Good. Now inch your way forward another hundred feet, until you're past the building on your right. Ignore the twelve-year-olds racing past you on their little dirt bikes.

Behind you is the loading dock. It's angled in about thirty degrees, so although you're backing to your blind side, you can sort of see where you're going if you jigger your mirrors just right. And if you're careful, you won't flatten the fence in front of you and run over the dog as you straighten out. In which case you'll be safely parked, blocking only about 3\4 of the street. The locals will casually drive by on the shoulder, missing you by inches.

After getting here, backing in seemed easy. Enjoy the feeling.

You still have to get back out.

You can't turn around. So when the nice gentleman finishes unloading you you'll pull out, inch forward another hundred feet, and make another left turn that doesn't QUITE knock down the fence behind you or squash the car parked in front of you.

Then an s-turn only 3/4 as tight, and a left turn back onto Main (clearing the cars in the parking lot to your left by a good two feet), and you're home free.

(Except for the hairpin turn back onto the highway, of course. But after what you've just been through, that's nothing.)

The nice lady who gave directions didn't mention those details. Maybe she didn't want to scare me off...

Nothing unusual

(from two or three days ago. I don't always have a connection when I think I do.,.)

Warm night ahead, I think. Not summerlike yet, but warm enough to roast in, if you sleep in a mobile solar oven. We'll see.

Was heading to Florida this morning. Not a welcome prospect if you work for my company--they don't do a lot of business there. Which means getting a load back out is sometimes iffy. But duty calls...

Then someone else called. Sent a message on the satcom, anyway. Some poor weary soul was trying to get home to Florida. Could he take my load and start in that direction?

I said okay. I'm such a nice guy.

Five hours later we met in a truck stop in south Georgia. He was properly appreciative. As we unhooked trailers and reconnected to each others, he mentioned that he'd been pre-assigned to a different load while he was waiting for me. One that would actually get him closer to home. Never heard another thing about it of course.

I commiserated, he thanked me again, I gave him his bills, and we parted. Shortly after, I got a new assignment.

Yep. The one he'd been given. It would have gotten him closer to home. It will get me further into the Florida cargo quagmire. We are so organized.

I got the info, of course, an hour after I was supposed to pick it up. Two and a half hours later, I carefully backed out of their driveway, turned around in a neighboring business' parking lot, and headed to the nearest truck stop to wait for morning. When they might be open.

Just another day at the office.

(It's okay. They did find me a load back out. Really.)

Sung On a Wet Freeway

I can see clearly now,
the bugs are gone!

I can see all the cars weaving
in my way!

Gone are the white splotches
that had me blind!

Gonna be a ni-i-ce,
(ni-i-ce)
ni-i-ce
(nice)
gray rainy day!

*****

We celebrate the oddest things sometimes...

Happy Easter to you all.

I actually got to church today. It's hard to get a load on a holiday weekend, so I was a stationary target when the fellow from the churoh bus came through. So I was able to be a good boy for once. (Usually Sunday Service consists of a prayer while looking through a windshield.)

Guess I'll to stretch the virtuous streak by calling the various families. Then to bed

'nite, all.

Torqued

Pulled into a store and backed up to the dock. Stopped a few feet short and opened the doors.

Or tried to. The left door swung out just fine, but the right--the latch handle came around about halfway and stuck.

The people at the dock had seen it before. Offered me a pipe to force it with. It was nice of them, so took it politely and tried it. No go. As I expected.

Then I moved the truck a few feet, walked back around, and opened the door almost casually.

"Wow!" they said. How did you DO that?"

"Simple,' I replied modestly. "I've seen this before. There was a low spot in the pavement under one set of drive wheels.

When the tractor and the trailer are too far out of level, the weight of the tractor can twist the trailer until the doorframe is out of true. Then the latches can jam up.

All I had to do was pull up until the tractor was level with the trailer. The trailer straightened out and the door opened right up. Nothing to it."

"You're so clever." one of them said. She was kind of cute, too.

All that took about two seconds. Then I stopped daydreaming and finished backing up to the dock.

They were waiting patiently. Nobody looked especially impressed. Darn