Now picture another truck driver who arrived at the truck stop earlier, only to have the first guy park beside him. This driver wants nothing but an evening of peace and quiet, a decent dinner in his truck, a hot shower and a Leafs or Raptors game on the satellite radio. This driver is me.
I don’t care anything about the first driver. What he does on his own time is his own business, so long as it doesn’t affect me in the least. I certainly don’t want to see or hear about his ‘company.’
I Want To Pretend That I Didn’t See Anything
Unfortunately, this brings me to an evening a few weeks at my favourite Pilot truck stop in Gaffney, South Carolina. As usual, I parked in the far back corner of the lot. Typically, that’s where you get the most seclusion and least disturbance from the noise and headlights of the incoming trucks in the fuel aisles.
I was sitting in driver’s seat at around eleven o’clock, trying to decide if I should lie down in my bunk. I was fiddling with the radio and looking around when a car pulled around the corner. Continue reading