Monday, March 29, 2010

Flashback #3- The Terrorist Tangelo, July 2005

I was working for Schneider National and was taking a load from Aberfoyle, On, to probably Chicago, I think. I arrived at the Port Huron, Mi. border and got pulled into secondary inspection, which means they are going to search your truck. I was not too worried. I had nothing to hide. I thought.
I went into the building and filled out the necessary declaration form claiming I had nothing with me that was illegal to cross the border with. Including citrus fruit. Citrus is the devil. I signed the paper and waited impatiently for them to get the search over with. They returned, one officer holding a small yellow citrus fruit between two latex-gloved fingers. My heart sank. I forgot I had that. May as well shoot me now. The CBP officer was not impressed.

CBP: What is THIS?
LIZZY: (meekly) It’s a tangelo.
CBP: It is citrus. You cannot bring citrus across the border. You signed a paper saying you had none.
LIZZY: I know. I forgot. I’m sorry.
CBP: You have TWO options.
LIZZY: What are they?
CBP: Either you can take this tangelo back to Canada right now OR…….
Not a bad idea. I could probably lob it back to Canada from where I’m standing. Would that save me a fine?
CBP: (dramatically) I can have it INCINERATED.
LIZZY: (gulping) Um, whatever makes you happy, just do that with it, I guess.

And he marched away to execute the criminal fruit in a horrific and barbaric manner. I have never figured out why one little fruit needed to cause grown men to go to such drastic measures. But then, who am I to question Border Guards on power trips?

Day of the Double D's

I had a really hard run out to B.C. I think I may have set a personal record, in fact. Very tiring. I got to Purolator out by the airport and since it was Sunday, the place was almost deserted, other than a little sweeping truck cleaning the parking lot. I pulled up to the speaker at the security gates and asked where they wanted me to drop the trailer. The man did not speak very good English at all and sounded Asian. I had a lot of trouble understanding him. It got worse when I got back to the intercom at the gate, leaving the yard. I shall call him SG, for security guard.

SG: You have a trailer?
LIZZY: No, I just need my paperwork signed.
SG: Ok, you drive to the office. I sign. Drive one half-a-meter.
LIZZY: (pauses) But that’s like, one and a half feet. Do you mean half a kilometer?
SG: No. Is a half-a-meter.
LIZZY: You mean around the corner of the building?
SG: Just a half-a-meter. You drive. I meet you there. Thanks.

Shaking my head and laughing to myself, I drove around the corner of the building, and there he was, coming out to meet me with a smile on his face. A little old Asian man with white hair. He came up to the window and took my paperwork.

SG: Good morning. Nice to meet you.
LIZZY: Thank you, you too.
SG: It’s a nice truck?
LIZZY: Yes, it’s alright. I like it.
SG: Ah, you remember the good old days of the Double D’s?
LIZZY: (slightly taken aback) Excuse me? The what?
SG: The Double D’s. You know.
LIZZY: (confused and possibly blushing) No, I’m sorry, I don’t.
(Is he trying to say I have small boobs? That can’t be it….)
SG: Clutches. Double D clutches. Maybe they were before your time?
LIZZY: (breathing a sigh of relief) Must be. I’m very young…….

I smiled, said goodbye and continued out of the yard, thanking my lucky stars I hadn’t opened my mouth and said something really embarrassing or stupid while in my state of confusion. But I always wonder…..what ARE these old men getting away with while we think they are so innocent?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Slim and Cowboy

I was at Slim and Cowboy’s last night, pouring out my confusion regarding Lada. They must be so sick of insecure me, so thank God they love me and put up with my silly girliness. I have appointed Cowboy the title of “professional dude”, which means that when I have a dude question, I ask the professionals. He did not choose this position, it was just kind of unwittingly forced on him before he could escape. But what I love about these two is that they care about me so much that they are very protective and caring and want to see me have the best in life, which means people who hurt me need to look out! Before I knew it, they were working out a plan to dig up all the dirt on Lada they possibly could, even offering to go under cover to the bar he works at. It’s awesome. Unfortunately if Lada were to figure it out, it would quite likely (ok WOULD) make me look like a psycho bitch. Poor guy wouldn’t know what hit him with these two. I love it. They are my family….you know, kind of like the Mafia….but not. Expect to be hearing more of these two.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Flashback #2- Hell is Alive And Well In Mississippi, February, 2005

During my first year of trucking I was working for Schneider National, and still getting a feel for things. I had not yet figured out where to go and where to stay away from at all costs.
I had a load coming out of Olive Branch, Mississippi, going back to Canada. I decided to stop at a pilot there and fax my border paperwork. It was a beautiful day and I was happy, wearing my pink sunglasses and pink top, and looking very girly in general. I hopped out of my truck and headed for the building with a spring in my step. I was about to pass a guy who was coming towards me when he suddenly put his hand on my arm. Taken aback by this douchebag, I spun to face him.

DB: Get in my truck.
Lizzy: Excuse me???
DB: (looking a bit bewildered) Get in my truck.
All of a sudden I realized he thought I was a lot lizard. (Truck stop hooker) I was enraged. I try not to swear so I had to get creative.
Lizzy: (Angrily pulling my arm free) You disgusting PERVERT!!!! You lowdown, filthy PIG! Your Mother would be ASHAMED!!! How dare you?! Keep your slimy hands OFF me! If you were on fire, I would not spit on you!!
At this point he was getting kind of redfaced, as several people had stopped to watch. The truckers were snickering at him. I turned on my heel and put on my “bitch from hell” act out of self-preservation and fear and marched into the building and sent my fax. As I was leaving the building, a trucker came running up with his arm wrapped in a towel, bleeding profusely as police swarmed into the place. He had been stabbed through the arm in the back of the parking lot. At this point I got a little frantic and made a dash for my truck. An African American guy stepped into my path. “Are you ok? I can take care of you.”
“Leave me ALONE!!!” I yelled as I ran past and leaped into my truck in record time, locking the doors. Once inside I took a deep breath and collected myself. I’m safe now. I can relax. I turned on my CB radio, which I almost never use because as a girl the men just harass me. Lot lizards were advertising on every channel, and could see a couple skeleton-like, crack- whore types walking the parking lot. And that was the last time I ever stopped anywhere in Olive Branch, Mississippi.

Who are you, Lada?

Last night Lada and I were supposed to go see a movie and get supper, but he got home from Hamilton too late and had to work from 10pm to 3am. I was disappointed, because I have been enjoying his company more than I expected I would. I’m always prepared for the worst, I guess. He hadn’t been feeling well and was being a little whiny and not being very clear about anything he said, so I finally just told him to be straightforward and tell me what he wanted. He said what he wanted was to come see me, but couldn’t because of work. I told him to just come after work and crawl in bed with me, and he could leave early in the morning for an event he was attending.
Before I go any further, let me just say that this is NOT my usual. The last time a guy slept in my bed (or I slept in a guy’s bed) was 4 years ago. Lada is not fully aware of this but has a pretty good idea I think, because he knows how long I’ve been single and has occasionally brought the subject up over the last three years.
So he came over at 4am, set the alarms, and crawled into bed with me. I was lying on my side and he was on his back for only a minute before turning on his side to face me. He laced his fingers through mine, and put his head on my pillow with his forehead and nose touching mine. I swear he just gets cuter and cuter. I hate it. It’s scaring me. He stayed like that for about half an hour before he kissed me. I smiled and whispered, “Go to sleep.” He chuckled, murmured, “uh, huh”, and kissed me again. I’m not gonna lie, there was a fairly heavy make-out session that followed, but I’m not giving details. It would be too much information. But I clearly told him, just like I have many other times that there would be no sex of any type. He promised not to think I’m a tease and be frustrated, but we’ll see. I fell asleep on his shoulder and a Chihuahua fell asleep on the other. My two Chihuahuas love him.
He kissed me goodbye and left in the morning, promising to text me today even though he is going to an event with his guy friends all day. He is good about that. Always texts first, even when he’s busy. On a side note, the boy looks really hot in his motorcycle gear…. I’m not going to fall in love with just anybody, but I do care about him, and sort of hope things might eventually head somewhere. Either that, or he will ditch me soon, because he knows I don’t do friends with benefits. If I absolutely could not see him in the picture for a while I would not even be bothering. But I’m also really scared of getting hurt. It’s so easy being single…

Saturday, March 20, 2010

The Gauntlet

So, I should mention Lada. We have been friends for about 3 years. We met one day while out on our motorcycles, exchanged numbers and have been e-mailing and texting ever since. We have always talked alot. He made no secret of the fact that he thought I was hot and wanted to sleep with me. But that is not my style, and I told him it was not going to happen. About two years into the friendship, I got tired of his male pushiness and the fact that he didn't always seem straightforward and transparent, so I told him the friendship wasn't worth it to me and that I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He begged me not to do it, said he didn't want to be cut out of my life but that if that's what I wanted, he would respect that. In the end, I caved and put him on a six month ban. He was not allowed to talk to me. At one point he e-mailed me to say he missed me, but I did not answer it. For sure guys do not wait like this right? Completely irrational of me. Sure to drive him away. It did not work. Six months passed and I got an e-mail asking if it was ok to talk to me again. I had to honour the deal. We started talking again.We have killed the battery on his cell phone on several occasions we talk so long.He wanted to spend time with me, but one of us was always busy, and I admit it may have been on purpose at times. So finally he cornered me and asked me to come have supper at his place with him and his friends. I went even though I was tense and nervous, and he could see how uncomfortable I was, so he just talked a mile a minute to make up for it. I sat outside with him as he barbecued and we talked. It was relaxing. He is not extremely hot, but is definitely cute, and has an amazing soothing voice I love to listen to. After supper we had a couple minutes to ourselves when no one was in the room. Lada sighed, grabbed my arms, pulled me close and kissed my forehead., which was incredibly sweet. I melted. Later that evening we kissed, and I seriously got butterflies. Pathetic. I'm thinking there is a lot of chemistry there, because the boy shivers when I touch him. It's awesome. We curled up on the couch and watched t.v. and talked and it was just so comfortable I wished I could have stayed like that, with his arms around me and his face buried in my hair. But I'm not sure I can trust myself to behave, so I left even though I know he wanted me to stay. He continued to text me for the next couple hours till I said Goodnight. He said he knew from the first time we talked that I was genuine and something special, and that is why he stuck out the six month ban. I was glad to know that, but I still find him confusing. I don't really know for sure what he wants. Maybe I'm just bad at this.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Mumsy Strikes Again

I am just on the tail end of eleven days off after working 6 weeks, and the first part of it I spent going to Supercross (YAY!!) in Toronto with my brother. It was amazing.
Then I went up to Mumsy's to spend March break with my little brother and sister. I was going to leave at the end of the week, but had to leave early so I didn't die of sleep deprivation. She was filling my schedule like crazy. "Can you use your pickup truck to go get me hay for the horses?" "Please bring 4 bales of hay to this farm so they can inspect it." "Oh, you made supper?" "My fridge died- can you go pick up a new one for me?" And then waking me up at 6 am consistently after i went to bed around midnight. I ended up saying I had to leave to get stuff done before work, and leaving 2 days early, so I could get some rest.
It is more relaxing now though, in spite of the fact that the brakes went on my pickup truck while I was driving and it is now at the mechanic's.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Flashback #1- Something is Creepy....And It's You. November, 2009

I have decided I have had too many strange/wonderful/scary things happen to me before my blog began to simply ignore them, so I am going to tell some of them as Flashbacks now and again to give a better understanding of my life out here on the road.

Flashback #1- Something Is Creepy….. And It’s You. (November, 2009)

It was a relatively warm sunny day in November and I had stopped in at a Pilot gas station to fax my paperwork and grab a starbucks doubleshot. I was on my way back to the truck, and as I passed a rather nondescript man, he spoke.

ND: Hey,…I saw you a couple weeks ago.
ME: (pausing briefly) Oh? I don’t remember you.
ND: You were at a truck stop in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
ME: If you say so….

I brushed past him and got to my truck as quickly as I could. But here’s the thing. He DID see me there. But let me explain. It was about 2 am, and raining heavily. Dark out. I stopped at a truck stop to switch trailers with another driver, and ran in to use the bathroom before I left. Since the weather was bad, and it seemed like maybe not the best neighborhood, I tucked my hair inside a big hoodie and ran inside quickly with my head down. I spoke to no one. I was there all of 15 minutes, and spent that time trying to hide my identity. This was all essentially just a big reminder to myself that when I think I am safe, and no one’s watching, I’m wrong.
I’m sorry it has been a while since I have posted. Things have been so busy.
A few days ago, I got a load to Chicago from Mississauga, Ontario. As I was at the shipper picking up my load, I got a message over the satellite telling me that another driver who was going to Chicago as well had stopped in London to get fuel and had left his wallet behind, containing all his fuel cards and his FAST Card. (Free And Secure Trade- it is a card you use to cross the border instead of your passport). He had been able to cross the border using his passport, so they asked me if I could pick up his wallet on my way by and meet up with him in Chicago. I said “no problem”, so they set us up so we could message each other’s trucks directly via satellite. Basically when you receive a message from the other truck, their truck number is at the top, and the message is below it. I deliberately did not sign my name to my messages, as I don’t want it to be relevant whether I am male or female.
He arrived in Chicago a couple of hours before me, so by the time I got there, he had gone to sleep. I parked my truck a distance away and walked to him. It was the middle of the night. I knocked on his door, but no one answered. I tried again. Nothing. I made one last attempt and banged on his door. He came to the window half asleep, and rolled it down halfway.

DAVE: No thank you, I’m not interested… (and he began to go back to bed)
ME: (seething) Here’s your fucking wallet.
DAVE: Oh God, ……..I’m so sorry.

I mean, come on! I have SEEN Lot Lizards. They are used up, drug addicted whores. I am beautiful. I understand I inadvertently set the stage for that one though, by not specifying whether I was male or female, parking where he couldn’t see my truck and knocking on his door at night in the middle of Chicago, so I have to give the guy a free pass for this one. But I was pretty angry at the time. Lol.