Do the right thing

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I hate it when people force me to do things I don’t want to do. My momma can attest to the fact that I may just be one of the most bull-headed individuals currently traveling the mortal coil. I figure, I’m a full grown human being, with a pretty good idea of what’s right and wrong, and I shouldn’t have to be forced to do anything.

That being said, there are times when I have no choice. Yesterday was one of them.

Firebird Camaro memeWe came up 27 out of Homestead, we caught a load out of there to San Antonio. George decided to try 27, which ended up being a mistake because there are approximately 9,001 stop lights along 27. He has since firmly stated he would pay whatever it costs on the turnpike to avoid this from now on. Live and learn.

We happened to get behind a company truck (I won’t mention what company, but let’s just say I would prefer a Camaro) that had no brake lights on the trailer. George did what he always does, he got on the CB. “Hey man, you got it on?”

“Come on.”

“You don’t have any brake lights on your trailer, man. I’ve been behind you for a minute, they aren’t working at all.”

“Well, if I get hit, I’ll just say that’s what made ’em quit working.”

George got “disappointed dad” look. “Just letting you know, brother. Ride safe.”

We both fully expected the guy to pull off. We hoped his flippant answer was a feeble attempt at humor. He never pulled off. He really didn’t give a crap that his governed truck had no brake lights on the trailer. He was heading for a 70-mph highway in a 64-mph truck with no brake lights. Visions of a Prius with a family of vegetarians wedged underneath his trailer were conjured in my mind.

We pulled out around him. Neither one of us said anything, but we both knew what we had to do. I got his truck number, called the company and let them know. We left him behind with his crappy attitude and went about our business, both feeling like jerks for being tattle-tales.

Let me pause here to say that we are some of the most “live and let live” people you will ever meet. I could care less what you do, as long as you’re not hurting other people. You can worship a potato chip and wear socks on your hands, and I wouldn’t think twice about it. It’s not my job to tell anyone what they should believe or how they should act, that’s their business. Whatever makes someone feel secure in their beliefs is fine with me, just as long as they don’t hurt little kids, old people or animals.

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I was mad at the guy for a number of reasons. First, did he even do a pre-trip inspection? Second, why the hell would he be so nasty about something so very dangerous? And third, he made me do something I hate to do, which is police other full-grown humans.

The “you drive your truck, I’ll drive mine” attitude isn’t helping anyone. If someone gets on the CB and tells George he has a problem, he thanks them and pulls over to fix it. Problem solved, and he’s grateful for the heads up. He’d much rather get it from another driver than a Care Bear.

Wouldn’t you?

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