Adventures in communication, part two

Truck stop chains tend to blur after a while.

Not surprising. The essence of a chain is to blur the experience. Not only is it cheaper to run all your stores the same way, it actually sells better. However much people complain, they go back because they know what they'll get. Consistency is a virtue. Really.

That said, variety is good, too. I bitterly regret the disappearance of several truck stops in
the last year or two. Even though there's a perfectly good place to park and eat right there--sometimes in the same building. It's just not the same. Or perhaps it IS the same--the same as the place 20 miles back, or the one 35 miles ahead. There can be too much consistency.

Today I'm enjoying something in between. Most Flying J(tm) truck stops have a Denny's(tm) attached nowadays.* But there are exceptions. A few are run by an outfit that include a restaurant called Patriot Farms(tm). I'm having a late breakfast at one now.**

The theme is Revolutionary War, with pictures of re-enactors and bits of 1700's food trivia in the menu. Mostly, it's just a good "home cookin'" restaurant, which is a good enough reason to stop in when I find one. But there's one standout.

Johnny cakes, they call them. Where I grew up, they called them corn fritters. Pancakes made with cornmeal. I remember them fondly, and these are the only places I've ever found them on a menu. They'll even give you a couple of little ones with any breakfast, free. Mmmm...

I have some need for comfort food right now. I just heard something a little nervous-making.

My satcom has been down for several weeks now. This has made getting in touch with my dispatcher interesting. Details later (from notes made earlier--I am so organized). But this was such a fine example I couldn't wait to write it up.

As I mentioned earlier, I just drove about 800 miles with a load, and was promptly told to turn around and go back to where I started--empty.

Well, okay, I thought, and asked where I should fuel.

Uhh, said my (weekend) dispatcher, and stared in consternation at his computer.***

It was telling him I'd never left Atlanta.

Or picked up a load there.

After all, I'd never filled out the official email forms, right?

And since I never picked up the load, or left Atlanta, obviously I shouldn't be paid for delivering it, now should I?

He swears he'll get it fixed. And of course I trust him.

And in the meantime there's comfort food.

-----

*They used to operate their own restaurants in most of them, but they apparently decided to outsource. Not necessarily a bad decision…

**11:00 am--I don't always post when I write. Or even often.

***I assume that's what he did. His comments seemed to suggest it.