We picked up our load in Port Allen Wednesday morning, got on I-10 and headed West. As usual, I was looking out the window and not really paying attention to anything in particular. Actually, that’s not true — I was watching people all along the 18-mile bridge sit in their damn bass boats and pull fish from the water. Lucky dogs.
We have a loose schedule when we’re traveling. We usually go in wherever we stay for the night and brush our teeth, get coffee and roll. We drive for about an hour (til’ the coffee kicks in) and look for a place to get food and use the bathrooms. This is the quiet time in the morning, we usually don’t talk much, except to comment on unusual scenery or how far we have to go.
“Well, we’re finally getting paid.”
“What do you mean? We’ve been rolling an hour.”
“This trip is 1448 miles and they’re paying 1402.”
“I thought they fixed that crap. Todd did an article on it. There’s supposed to be legislation or something, and isn’t someone getting their pants sued off for it?”
“They ain’t fixed a damn thing. Babe, we get shorted an average of 200 miles a week on that Rand McNally guide.”
“Two hundred miles?! That’s like, well I don’t know, but a lot of money. How the hell are they getting away with this blatant thievery? They can ping your truck within six inches but they can’t pay you mileage? Who the hell do I write a letter to? It’s going to be scathing and probably contain the eff word at least once.”
“I’m sure there have been letters written already. Nobody cares but the truckers, babe.”
“Oh bull crap. I care. And the families of the truckers care. And I bet if you parked this bitch at 1,402 miles and told them to come and get it because you weren’t moving another inch without being paid, the shipper would care.”
“If it were that easy, don’t you think someone would have done it already?”
“It’s because the general public isn’t aware. Nobody knows the dirty little secret the trucking companies have to get rich on the backs of their drivers.”
“Well maybe you should tell them. But be sure to note that not all companies pay this way.”
“Yeah. Only the dirty, thieving, liar-pants companies.”
“Go get ’em, girl.”
“They’re dead meat.”
“That’s my girl.”
