It had all the makings of a good day.
If you know anything about truck driving, you know a good day is a rarity and is to be savored like a fine bourbon.
I got a decent night's sleep for a change.
Breakfast, a hot shower, a good close shave with a new razor.
Fresh clean work clothes, thanks to my wife.
My load was ready early.
Hells bells...the sun was even shining. Hadn't seen that in many days.
Phone, Blue Tooth headset, and iPod fully charged, I stopped on the way into work and fueled my personal vehicle with below $3 a gallon gasoline.
I had fueled my tractor the previous night, so all I had to do was kick the tires, check all the lights and vital fluids, and I'd be on my way.
I kinda smiled to myself and thought, "Gawd damn I'm good. I really got my shit together. I deserve a raise and a promotion."
I was in a good mood.
If you know anything about me you know me being in a good mood is a rarity and is something to be savored. My day was going well, but it didn't happen by accident. I am a firm believer in doing all I can to make a good day happen, which requires effort, planning, and forethought.
I find my already loaded trailer staged at a dock door, and back underneath it. I visually inspect that the kingpin jaw is locked.
The trailer is old, but it is serviceable...thanks in part to my constant bitching and inspections.
The reefer is doing its job. It's down to temperature and not throwing any error codes, and I know its small diesel engine is full of oil because I took the initiative several months prior to regularly check and record the engine oil levels on the entire fleet of 50+ reefer units because nobody else was.
The reefer fuel tank is full. Good deal. One less stop I have to make later...
All clearance lights and signals are functioning on the trailer, so now I'll kick the tires and make sure the air springs are inflating properly.
Tires and air springs are good to go, so now it's time to remove the large rubber wheel chock from under the trailer tire.
As I walk back to do so, I'm looking up at the side of the trailer for any signs of damage to its skin. No new moron marks. Cool.
I get back to the rear of the trailer, bend down to remove the chock, and I take one step backwards.
My right foot lands smack-dab center-mass into a big steaming pile of shit.
I know my shit.
This pile did not come from a loose dog or an overgrown rabid wolverine.
It is human shit.
My day has taken an ugly turn.
What kinda lazy low-life no good rotten cock sucking bastard takes a dump outside in a parking lot between two semi trailers when there is a perfectly good bathroom 50 yards away?
My embarrassment and disgust for other members of my profession has grown (and been confirmed) exponentially, and my day is ruined.
I am fuming now.
I walk back to my tractor and retrieve a roll of paper towels in order to clean up my boot.
Soon, I've got a pile of shit-covered paper towels on the ground and I'm thinking, "I should leave this mess of shitty paper on the ground, but I won't because I am not a sleazy dirt bag truck driver."
I get a little bit of shit residue on my bare hand during the cleaning process.
I am raging at this point.
It is cold outside, and my nose itches.
I scratch it.
I get shit on my nose.
I am about to kill a motherfucker.
Eventually, I get myself and everything else cleaned and sanitized the best I can, but I have no way of picking up the remnants of the original offending turd.
I report the mess to the proper company authorities so that they may get it cleaned up as it is not prudent to have fecal matter in the vicinity of a food storage warehouse.
The shit's been sitting just where I stepped in it for days.
Who gives a shit?
Nasty, beast-like truck drivers.
I'm ready for a desk job.
That's what I think.
Now...some of you might be saying, "Zoomie! You stepped in some shit. Big fucking deal! Brush it off and move on, asshole. It ain't the end of the world, and it ain't a very good blog topic either, dickhead. Post some threatening and insulting material about Obama or cops or something. We haven't seen hide nor hair from you in two fucking months, and when we do it's a rambling diatribe about dung? Gawd damn. Go back into hibernation, retard. You suck. Hurry up and die already."
...just not in my work space, please. Are we human beings, or are we uncivilized feral animals?
I like to think that having indoor plumbing and sanitation (and common sense and courtesy) are a few of the important things separating and differentiating us from the herd.
Reminds me of the time this last summer when I caught a Hispanic landscaper gentleman pissing on my trailer tire.
Figuring the urine-cat didn't speak English (because I am a racist hate-monger), I quickly tracked down his on-site boss.
Me: "Hey! Hey you! I don't piss where you work. I'd appreciate it if you didn't piss where I have to work!"
Landscaper boss: "What?"
Me: "I just caught one of your guys pissing on my trailer."
Landscaper boss: "Oh. I didn't know..."
Yes. I know you didn't know.
We are becoming a third-world shit hole...literally.
And nobody knows nuthin'...