CHAPTER 13
(Celadon Witches hide behind a Girthy messenger and take aim)
A good two weeks had passed and the mountain incident had finally eluded my mind. The company was sure to route me past that mile marker two more times just to be certain I knew how to work those jake brakes and be in a much lower gear. It got to the point where I got so good at going down the mountain I could go down the entire thing without once having to hit the brakes. Those jake brakes work great when used properly you just have to remember to push in the additional button on the steering wheel to turn them on. Mel could have told me that. I couldn't possibly blame Mel as the route I was trained on never involved any mountain descending in the first place as Texas is flat as a pancake.
I had just picked up a load from northern Indiana that was set to go way down southbound to some state I can't entirely remember. A message came on my Qualcomm that I needed to stop in the Indy terminal and go talk to safety. Over the months they have done this quite a bit as it's company policy for new drivers like myself to watch safety videos and earn points for the company store. The Indy terminal was along the way and I really thought nothing of it.
I parked the rig at the Indy terminal and made my way towards the safety department. Celadon was a very large building so it was easy to get lost. Lucky for me I was getting to know my way around so it wasn't hard for me to find the safety department. I recognized one of the dispatchers sitting at a computer so I asked him whom it was I should see to most likely get set up with some safety videos.
The short haired dispatcher didn't take his gaze away from the computer as he directed me.
"Oh. You need to go see George Gerth."
I was confused. I thought George did more than the safety department.
"George who?"
"George Gerth. He's just two more cubicles over there."
Things were starting to seem a bit weird. I didn't like where this was going but I wouldn't say I was super nervous at this point. The mountain incident happened weeks ago and the police never got involved so I lucked out with never getting a ticket.
Besides. If it were a big deal they would have terminated me weeks ago like they always do when a serious incident happens. But why was I supposed to see George Gerth? It seemed too early yet for a raise.
When I knocked lightly at George's cubicle I noticed a disgusted look on George's face. I could clearly see that something was bothering him.
"Hey Blake. I need you to sit down."
I sat down with a perplexed look on my face. "Was I routed in to do safety videos again?"
George wasn't smiling. "No. But I do have something to show you."
George was another one of those well paid guys that opted not to keep the barber in business. His haircut was literally just like mine. Just a standard number one around that most likely his wife or daughter cut for one more pizza dinner to land on the table instead of looking too pretty. I gaped as George started flipping through the paper work. Evidently they had some sort of file on me.
George continued. "You uh, you had some kind of incident recently?"
I wasn't sure where he was going with this.
"You mean the escape ramp incident a couple of weeks ago? The truck was unscathed. There were no vehicles involved. I never even got written a ticket."
"I know but since you reported it we still have to list it as an incident."
"Um...okay?"
"You just had an incident two months ago. It hasn't been four months."
I let out a nervous chuckle. "You mean that little chunk of concrete the size of a quarter my bumper caught at the shipper? The shipper told me I would be wasting my time reporting it and to let it go! There's chunks missing from other drivers before me!"
"But you STILL reported it and it counts as an incident."
"Can I see the bill for that? Somebody had purposely moved a pile of wooden pallets into my way and that's why it was difficult to park."
George continued. "Look it's already in the file and counts towards your CSA points. None of this was MY decision but we have to let you go. Two incidents in less than four months."
I knew that there was a pretty good chance I probably had more money in my back pocket than he had in all of his bank accounts combined. I really didn't want to lose my job for something I didn't feel was my fault. And that bumping into a concrete barrier incident? I was 100% certain no driver in hell would ever report something that silly where nothing needed fixed and no damage. The unemployment office had me institutionalized as they require every fart and sneeze needs documented. If I had to part with a grand or two I'd do it in a heartbeat as being out of work would cause me to lose thousands quickly.
"If this is all because of the wrecker bill with tugging me out of the sandpit I'll gladly pay the wrecker bill."
I could tell George didn't like doing this. Evidently Mindy couldn't fight the entire phalanx of sneaky witches in there herself. The ones that had serious clout with the company and deftly skilled at hiding behind the big red curtains so nobody could find out who they really were. I was also certain this surreptitious phalanx of witches that wished harm upon me were also responsible for turning my weekly paychecks into an amusing game of spin the bottle. They evidently must know about my penile enlargement surgery and didn't feel it mixed well with bombs and were looking to oust me any way that they could! Atrocity! That was the word used by the federal female doctor in 2006. It was only my fathers barber that didn't feel the same way about those "guy" plastic surgeries. "I don't see how they're any different from boob jobs." she had told my pops once. But the day I see blue supersede the color pink on the NFL field is the day I'll believe that these lengthening procedures allegedly also performed on the Chicago Bears (According to Dr. Sheldon Burman) are no longer deemed an "atrocity".
George grasped at his hair a while like he was getting stressed and trying to think of a peaceful solution.
"Like I told you. This wasn't my decision. I can't reverse it. But there is however one thing I can do for you."
I was getting hopeful. "What's that?"
"Are you a company driver or owner operator?" "I'm a company driver."
"That's good. Since you're with the company I can purchase you a bus ticket home at the company's expense. If you were owner operator you'd have to figure out how to get home on your own."
Was this guy serious? That was the good news a fully paid greyhound ticket home? 21 hours of horrible temperatures and some stinky ass dude driving me up the wall asking for change from a dude that just lost his job? Aw hell no! I wasn't jumping on that nasty ass greyhound and dealing with that military Poh- lice wannabe bus driver that barricades himself into his bulletproof glass cubicle and blasts the heat up purposely to 100 degrees while he himself is in a nice comfy 67. I had a better idea for George. George AKA the Celadon Witches "messenger".
"Well what if I opt to rent a car to get home instead?"
"We'll, lemme see here how much a bus ticket is back to PA. Oh here we go. $175.00. I can get you a comdata check for $175 instead if you would like."
I knew once the gas station got their cut I would be lucky to see $150.00 out of that $175.00. I still took the check anyways and left to go clean out my truck and grab my gear. My dispatcher sent me another load assignment and had absolutely no clue that I had just gotten fired. I wrote a free form message on the Qualcomm explaining what had just happened and was sure to end it just how Pastor Edwards (my delusional pen name)would want me to. I ended my farewell cherry note with the last two words of God Bless!!!