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Last Saturday 10 AM I wake up and shake off the previous night's debauch. I have to drive a cargo van to Dallas to make sure certain things get there by Monday morning.
The way out of Chicago is smooth enough, then Joliet, Streator, Pontiac, Gardner all fly by as I haul ass southbound down I-55.
The racist, reactionary deep pit of America bleeds through the radio and the CB as I get further south.
Seems Missouri and Oklahoma are being rewarded with 2.85/2.79 gas and 3.50ish diesel. Nice. Must be all those McCain signs everywhere.
I guess Flying J truck stops have a corporate directive to keep Fox news channel on teevees in the dining areas. A nice meal of mashed potatoes, 10 kinds of gravy and meat flavored vegetables is ruined by republican propaganda.
Then i get to Dallas. By the time I hit McKinney, I am feverish and unglued and my legs won't stop jumping. Time for a motel.
Drop off the shipment, head back and stay the night south of Springfield, MO in a locally owned motel/truck stop/restaurant complex. Cleaner than some of the corporate chains and very homey, with nice biblical scripture posted everywhere in view.
A little past Springfield, IL I hear some veteran trucker extolling the virtues of cb's and bemoaning the state of younger drivers who don't even update "bear" reports.
Me, Soul Train, and Cheese Biscuit run together to south of Joliet, talking, trading the front door on and off, and otherwise making a hundred miles or so peel off like nothing.
Then I get the call: I have to pick up a bigger truck, reload, and head back that same night.
so i pick up the biggest possible civilian truck you can drive without a CDL, reload, and head back to Texas. with another driver. seems my boss conscripted "Peanut" (some cat from around the barber shop) to help me drive back.
I end up driving most of the way because Peanut is not a road driver.
I put him on a greyhound bus in dallas and head toward Dennison where I spend the night.
The next day i made it as far as Buffalo MO where i convinced the lady at the AMVETS hall to sign me as a guest so i could drink there.
i bought the whole bar a round (it cost about 20 bucks) and Santa Claus in overalls buys me a beer and introduces himself. Seems he's called "JW" and owns half the town and the bar out on the highway outside of town.
"Whar you from?"
"Texas."
"You gonna come party with us tonight"
"Cool. I like to party."
I head out with JW, his ol' lady, some farmhands and we peel off through dark country roads drinking beer and raising hell.
about 10 good ol' boys have a camp set up by the river with generators and a fire and you can smell fried fish cooking.
some beer, some fish, more beer, a few snorts of corn whiskey and we head toward the bar in a caravan of trucks.
i woke up the next day with $300 in my pocket and a bad headache.
back in chicago now, at work, saying hi to y'all.
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