On Temporary Friends
Posted by Jeremy on August 29th, 2007
When I was in the midst of the Dot Com Bust, being self-employed/unemployed, I worked a variety of jobs; painter, light industrial, mechanical, physical labor, etc etc. But by far my favorite job during that time was an Over the road truck driver.
I really got to see the country, the places and people that truly make up America. It’s not the greatest place, but man it surely isn’t the worst.
During my year or so driving, I had many ‘temporary best friends’.
Truckers, by and large, are a social animal. True, we reside inside a cramped cab for weeks on end with little else between us and the long stretch of tarmac then the alluring sexy glow of the CB radio; a radio which was usually monopolized by the 3% of all drivers that you naturally assume all of us are (were); rude, fat, bald, with very little education and no regard for human safety - surviving on BO and speed.
But every now and then you’d run into someone at a truck stop somewhere, get to talking with them and really like what they offer. Then you learn that you’re both picking up a load at the same yard in New Jersey, and you’re both dropping off that load somewhere on the West Coast, usually LA.
So for the next week it’d be you and him 24×7. We’d hop up to an unused channel on the CB (And in this day and age, it’s the majority of them) and shoot the shit for hours upon hours. You’d stop at the same stops, shut down at the same areas; you were best friends.
Then, 4-5 days later when we’d see San Bernadino you knew you were going your seperate ways. You’d feel a bit bummed about it, talk about hooking up again eastbound, but you know it would never happen. It was just another temporary best friend. Another ‘average joe’ supplying you with your goods.
Although a majority of the trucking industry employs ex-military grunts, I did meet and have as a temporary best friend a huge swath of society - an Astronomy professor for Purdue, someone with a PhD in mathematics, other IT professionals, born nomads, anti-social punks, your average Dad with a wife and kids back home, doing the best he can, all kinds.
I’m impulsive by nature - I like to take chances, to do what others tell me I can’t. And I’m happy to say that I regret none of it, for I wouldn’t be the person I am now if it wasn’t for the people I met on the road of life.
Sometimes on that road, you need to stop and get out - stretch your legs. Take a leak on the median. Take that road without a sign, the one your map doesn’t show.
You may be surprised by what you find - I know I have.