Tim's Tales from the Road
Tim's Tales from the Road
Dallas does not wake up easy. After a day trying to sleep while bouncing around in the sleeper, enduring panic stops, bad highways and trying to sleep in the middle of complete chaos he is not really happy to be awake. He thinks morning people or those inclined to wake up perky, bouncy and happy should be shot on sight. Waking up is painful. It is slow. It must never be rushed and in his case it happens in specific stages that must never be altered or moved into any other order. Rodeo injuries, stiff joints and addictions all must be accounted for in the stages of waking up. I have learned over the years that cold water, happy conversation or refusing to acknowledge the proper order of the waking up process can all have dreadful if not life threatening consequences. In short, Waking Up is Hard to Do.
I often watch him as he crawls out of the sleeper after his time in the bunk and delight in watching his face as it come to life in stages. First there is the fixed stare. I'm sure his eyes see but they just don't move real fast and his fixed gaze out at the highway or the dash or the passing scenery is what I call PW/1. (Pre Wake 1) This stage must not be broken through conversation or any rapid activity. It must be respected.
Next comes PW/2. (Pre Wake 2) In this stage the eyes are capable of some movement and squinting is remarkably improved. All things which might be the focus of a perturbed stare or catch the attention of someone not yet 'awake' must be accounted for or hidden. There must be no garbage on the floor of the cab. Only those lights necessary for the current operation should be on. Showing off and draining the alternator by running with all the marker lights on in broad daylight on a sunny day is not a good idea to be caught doing in this stage. Do not ask how he slept. You will know soon enough.
Finally comes PW/3 (Pre Wake 3). We now have rapid eye movement and some speech abilities. Although he is now capable of responding it is not advisable to make comments on how original his hair looks today or informing him of anything regarding his appearance. He does not feel beautiful. Telling him that he is will not result in any favorable responses but could be detrimental to the outcome of the rest of the day. He is stiff and he is by the first stretch now progressing to a crucial point in the waking up process.
We are now in CWU 1 (Critical Wake Up 1). Three things will now happen at the first possible moment and they will usually happen simultaneously. PCC. This stands for Piss, Coffee, Cigarettes. Timing is imperative. Miss a beat on getting the truck stopped in a timely manner for this one and there is no greater hell known to man. The window for successful completion of this stage is less than five minutes from the point where PW3 ends and CWU 1 begins. It is understood by all concerned that it is in the driver's best interest to make sure that there is coffee and cigarettes for when The Dallas wakes. Thus, the following excuses for NOT stopping will not be accepted.
(We will utilize the Lutheran Liturgical Style for the following exchange. The first statement is muttered by me the driver. The second responses are those of The Dallas. The equivalent of the congregation. Now let us begin.)
The following allow for a temporary postponement of CWU and therefore PCC.
The following excuses are not acceptable excuses for the postponement of PCC.
Once CWU 1 is completed and all PCC concerns have been appropriately addressed the next stage is CWU 2. (Crucial Wake Up 2). This is a mandatory period of silence which usually lasts until all substances needed for the proper waking up period are absorbed into the system of The Dallas. No discussion is permitted during this period and any attempt to make light, happy conversation will be dealt with severely. It should also be noted that only the foolish attempt to discuss any bad news, equipment breakdowns or unmet emotional needs during this time.
Finally comes CCWU. This is known as Completely Coherent Wake Up. Depending upon the exact administration of PCC, CCWU usually is reached not more than 40 minutes and not less than thirty minutes after initial eye opening and forward movement into the cab area from the sleeper. Hence the origination of 'cab forward design'. Dodge didn't come up with that one, Dallas did. No wonder Ram Pickups look like castrated Kenworths.
Other factors influencing the waking up of The Dallas:
*This is all necessary background information for the following event which happened in Gallatin, TN last year.
Much of our freight originates with shippers who do not understand that when truckers aren't rolling, they aren't making any money. It is not unusual for truckers to experience long delays while waiting to get loaded or unloaded. Usually these delays occur in a fenced-in, secure area and other than a few vending machines, a restroom that might have been cleaned back in 67', and a phone placed right next to the loading dock (making conversation impossible), there are not a lot of things to occupy yourself until it is possible to get rolling again.
On one late July evening when the humidity made the liquid air almost impossible to breathe and the skin sticky to the touch, Dallas and I were held up in Gallatin, TN waiting for the trailer we were to pull to LA to be loaded. Dallas spent much of the day asleep in the sleeper. I kept the truck running and I periodically checked on him to make sure that enough cool air was getting back into the sleeper. Sleep is difficult during the heat of the summer and he only managed to rest in fitful spurts.
After several hours we were finally given the go ahead to hook up to our trailer and told that the paperwork would be ready shortly. I sent a message out over the Qualcomm (our satellite communication system) to let dispatch know that we were about to be cleared to leave the dock. Their response woke Dallas and he climbed out of the bunk to face the heat, the mid Southern night and a tight load that would only give us 40 hours to get to LA. As he was sitting on the shotgun side trying to wake up, another team pulled up alongside us.
As I got out of the truck to go sign the paperwork, I realized that both the drivers were women. I waited for them and we all walked into the office together. With that Tennessee warmth and friendliness that I have come to love, they both joked about what a mess the heat was making of their fine hair styles and they were not only driving a "large car" but that they had the "large hair" to go with it. I was astonished to notice that both of them were wearing sun dresses.
What happened next was totally spontaneous. Watching out the window of the shipping office, I could see Dallas making his way toward the office to use the drivers' restroom. Still half asleep he never saw it coming until it was too late.
Looking over at the women, I smiled and pointed towards Dallas. "I bet you two could really help out my co' driver with a problem he's got"
"What sort of problem is that?" the younger of the two women asked.
"Well, he lost this bet and for Halloween he has to dress up as a lady. Only he doesn't think he can drive a truck in a dress. And, uh...well he's never worn heels before. I mean 'cept for cowboy boots but I don't figure they really count. I think he's just trying to weasel out of the bet."
Everyone turned to watch as Dallas walked into the room. He was wearing his standard white T shirt, Straw Cowboy hat and cowboy boots. His eyes were still puffy and he looked half asleep.
As if on cue, both women turned around and grabbed Dallas by each arm and turned him around before he could even get to the restroom. He was too stunned to react and still not awake enough to have any sort of clue what was going on. As the three of them went out the door, all I heard was the older woman saying to Dallas "Sweetie this is your lucky day. Charlene and I can help you out with that problem you've got...."
The shipping clerk looked up at me and asked "What was that about? Those two girls are in here all the time and they don't have a lick of sense between 'em"
I told the man over the counter that I was pretty sure that he didn't want to know what was about to happen out in his parking lot. He assured me as he grinned that he knew those two pretty well and that whatever they were up to, he most certainly did want to be in on it.
We both moved over to the window and watched the three of them as the two women showed Dallas how to get in and out of their Freightliner in a dress.
The shipper looked at me and said "I think your friend is in over his head. I'll bring your paperwork out to you. In the mean time you better get out there before they have him in that dress."
Approaching the truck I could hear the women. "Look, when you're in heels you gotta be real careful. These grates over the fuel tanks are hell on anything with any sort of heel and high heels can be fatal."
The other woman interrupted "Yeah. Get one of them heels stuck in those little steel holes and you're not going to look very lady like trying to bend over in that dress and get it out."
"If you even can get them out" the other responded. "I had to run all the way from Memphis to Little Rock with one of my best shoes suck in the step over my fuel tank. If you don't think THAT got some talk from them chicken haulers on '40'." She paused as she stuck her finger through one of the holes for emphasis.
"Once you get stuck, you're stuck and some of those dresses don't give a lady enough room to bend over..honey you can kill yourself. If you're not careful, the damn heel will break off and then you're really in trouble. Its not like the Flying J has heel repairs in their lube bay."
"I actually wear flats when I get in and out of the truck and put the heels on later." The younger woman was talking again. Dallas was stuck between them and he was definitely awake now. Without cigarettes. Without coffee. And without having made it to the restroom.
The younger woman continued. "Now you lost that bet and its your duty as a gentlemen to just grin and bear it. Besides you'll make a fine bride for some handsome ol' Arkansas Chicken Hauler."
"OR a bullhauler!" The other woman interjected.
"What bet are you two talking about? I have not lost any bets! None."
Dallas was no longer passive about his opportunity to graduate from the Lady Trucker School of Charm and Fine Southern Etiquette. He was now glaring at me. Dallas was now fully awake and fully aware of everything that had happened. Everything. Thankfully the shipper appeared with the paperwork and we were on our way.
The first hour was a quiet hour. Eventually the silence was broken with Dallas looking across the reflective lights cast from the dash and the heavy summer nights traffic. "Tim?" He tapped his fingers on the top of the dash until I responded.
"Yes, Dallas?"
"I just want you to know that you are a dead man." And that was all he said.
But I later learned that it was a good kind of dead!
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