It never fails to amaze me. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. But I’ve just got to say something. I was in a safety meeting yesterday. It was crowded. Freight is slow, so there are a lot of drivers stuck here. Here being Laredo, TX. A lot of the drivers are new to the company. There are more and more women flat-bedders now. I looked around the room. I completely tuned out what the safety guy was saying and pondered what I was seeing.
One guy over there looks like Jesus, the girl over there looks like a cast member from the Broadway show Stomp – all she needed was a metal trash can. The “kid” in front of me had the back of his neck tattooed, that guy over there looks like a beggar, the guy to my left is wearing a stained “wife beater” shirt, the woman who just walked in is a skooch taller than a midget and with a little more hair would look like Cousin Itt (that’s how it’s spelled) from the Adams Family.
The dude in back looks like a NBA wannabee and yes, he was carrying a basketball. His “shorts” were almost down to his ankles. Just exactly when are shorts considered long pants? They were baggy enough to fit someone else in there. Of course, the waistband was just above his butt crack. What a picture. The guy in the corner has a dirty grey beard that goes down to his waist. Many in this “gathering” were missing teeth and a few wore black and brown flip flops with various colored “dress” sox. A few had large knives in leather holders on their belts.
And then there were the wives, girlfriends and “tagging-along-ers.” They apparently had nothing else to do so they attended the meeting. They were complaining about the “bad” language being used by drivers in their presence. Specifically, the “F” word. Ok, they have a point, but one of the ladies was dressed in a very short puffy cotton sundress sans bra. Was it intentional that everyone could tell she wore lace panties? Another girl looked barely 16 and was a thin as a toothpick. Her jeans wouldn’t fit over my forearm.
As in every driver meeting, safety or otherwise, there was - the cowboy. Black jeans, cowboy hat, snake skin belt with the turkey plate sized buckle, And the skin tight snap cowboy shirt. Almost 90 degrees and long sleeves? He was almost as thin as that 16 year old girl. And of course, he could barely sit there struggling not to light up. He was clearly a nicotine addict.
There was the driver who I gave a cold Gatorade to. He was out there tarping his little heart out in the heat before the meeting. After I gave him the drink, he stopped what he was doing, went into his truck, and presented me with a wooden cross his wife apparently makes. A Christian driver. There’s “lots a” those.
But listen, let’s be honest. With a very few exceptions – me being one of them – none of these folks looked professional. They didn’t look like they were on the job. They didn’t seem to care that they’re sitting in their employers place of business. They didn’t even look like factory or warehouse workers. What they did look like were inmates with their “family” during the visiting period at a minimum security prison. And more importantly and to my point, you would have a hard time taking any of these folks seriously. No wonder the management at trucking company treats drivers like lepers.
The photo credit is: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wayneklick/1822874674/
