August 31, 2012

• The Cheese Load

         Friday morning I found myself assigned to the dreaded cheese load. I hate the cheese load.  It rolls out very early. I have to leave the house by 2 and have the truck rolling by 3am at the latest because it's a three and a half hour drive through Baltimore and around Philadelphia to Allentown, PA if there is by some miracle no traffic.   None of us like to do this run because it pays about a third of what we earn doing any other day's work, but it was on my schedule for the day, so up the road I went.  My appointment in Allentown was at 7 am, and I was backed up against the dock and checked in by a quarter 'til.  I powwowed with the loader to ensure the load would be distributed properly so I could rest assured I wouldn't be getting a ticket for having too much weight on one set of axles, and then I made a beeline for the truck to take a nap.  I had forgotten my bedding, and when I saw that the mattress cover, which had originally been white, was a dark, dingy gray, I opted to jump up into the top bunk which had a brand new, clean, white cover.  Even so, I'm somewhat particular about laying my head somewhere other people might have had theirs, so I threw my driver's bag up on the bunk.  A few adjustments of flashlight, cans of beef stew and window cleaner spray, and it made quite a comfortable substitute for a pillow.  Around 7am, I was finally situated, and though I made an effort to check the emails on my phone as the truck rocked and bucked under the motion of the forklift moving in and out of the trailer, I didn't get very far before descending into the sleep of the dead, and the two and a half hours it took to load and seal the trailer and complete the paperwork, passed as if only an instant.

       Slowly, into the fog of my sleep addled brain, fingers of noise began to intrude.  Someone was blowing their horn!  What? What's wrong?  I was instantly awake and in one motion sat up, put my feet to the floor and stood.  Except, there was no floor under my feet.  I was flying.  "What? Am I still asleep? Dreaming?"  It was slow motion.  I grabbed for anything to slow my fall, but there was nothing at hand.  By this point my feet were behind and it looked like my face would use the dashboard, very far ahead and even farther down, to arrest my fall.  How, I wondered, could I have time to think clearly whether I should reach up for the grab handles, ahead to the dash to ease my fall, or just put my hands in front of my face so I could minimize the damage, if it wasn't a dream?  It would have been happening to fast. As this train of thought meandered lazily about my brain, my toes touched the floor and a wave of relief flooded through my chest followed immediately by an explosion of fiery pain, bringing me instantly back to real time.  I had neglected to notice the gear shift handle protruding from the floor, and all my reasoning was for naught. I found I no longer needed to worry about the position of my hands as the gearshift knob had caught me by the sternum and brought my fall to an instant halt.

       Dazed, I looked around to get my bearings.  I was in the truck.  It was daylight.   Out the left window, about two feet away, a man was seated, looking at me, unable to speak through his uncontrollable fits of laughter. Why...How...could someone be sitting six feet off the ground looking into my truck at eye level?  Through the clearing fog in my brain, I began to understand, the yard jockey had driven up and needed to talk to me.   I turned the key, rolled down the window and waited.  Momentarily, he calmed himself, " I was beginning to think noone was in the truck, then all of a sudden a man dropped from nowhere...Never seen anything like it! Your paperwork's ready."  He went back to laughing.  I put my shoes on, signed my paperwork and headed down the road. 

  I hate the cheese load.

  • 10:07 am
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