On Monday the tractor-trailerin’ began.
I know this is making Miss Carol crazy ’cause she can’t figure out why I’m even doing this because, honestly? I’m not so sure, either.
It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do.
Driving a big-rig, blasting all alone down a lonely highway, hauling 40 tons of whatever with the music cranking and heading for a far-off horizon? How cool is that?
You know, as an idea, anyway?
But Monday was a bit of a wake up call. I never thought or dreamed that truckers-to-be would be rocket scientists or even marginally hip or cool. And, I’m not saying I am and I realize people are products of their upbringing and whatever, but, hey. Whoa.
Our class of 12 squeezed into the little classroom and while our instructor started reading the manual to us I looked around and listened and after three days I’m wondering what it is I did.
There’s a coupla scar-covered guys from Ghana that I’m not sure can write english. You know, like I can.
There’s this one spooky dude that I just hope I’m not ever riding with.
There’s another huge guy covered in tattoos that actually looks pretty harmless. Except, maybe to little kids.
There’s two guys who’ve decided to be my bestest buddies and want to talk to me all the time and tell me what to do. I hate them.
There’s a guy who’s already spent a YEAR at the school studying diesel mechanics and has decided that THAT school didn’t, and couldn’t, teach him anything. He’s very angry.
There’s this one bird-like looking kid that just seems really nervous. I’d actually like to talk to him.
There’s this one big black guy who has NEVER driven anything with a clutch. I’m not quite sure what he was thinking.
And then there’s these two ex-Navy dudes just looking for anything to do now that they’re out of the service. They seem a little lost.
It’s an interestingly new world I’m in. I like learning new things, especially stuff like this that is SO outside my comfort zone and while I think everything’ll be cool, the overall feel is testosterone fueled toughness.
Man.
I just hope I don’t get beat up.
oceandoggy.com 
Perfect…I’m feeling some white knuckled rides when I see a tractor trailer in my rear view mirror from now on. Your classmates sound…er…interesting? Can’t wait to see the class photo of the graduating class. What is up with the dude that NEVER drove a something with a clutch….and he picks a big ass truck to learn on ~ seriously?!?
Actually you shouldn’t. The training in this industry and subsequent monitoring is extensive and intensive. All of these drivers will have had, on average, six months of training before a trucking company will turn them loose in one of their rigs.
But yeah, the dude who has never driven a clutch? Not so sure about him.
Sounds awesome! 10 years from now, will you guys meet up at a neutral truck stop for a class (and I use that term loosely) reunion!! And you paid money for this?!
It’s a, um, er, interesting world.
–>What do you think they say about you?
Hmmm.
That’s a good question. I honestly don’t know.
“There’s two guys who’ve decided to be my bestest buddies and want to talk to me all the time and tell me what to do. I hate them.”
I don’t know them, but I hate them, too.
Yeah, I’m not quite sure why guys have to do that. Why they have to constantly in control, telling everyone around them what to do and how to do it.
One of my oldest friends STILL tells me where and how to park MY truck when he’s riding with me.
Dick.