A Different Breed

In my former career, I spent time working in a warehouse. Most of my time was dedicated to managing our associates and their tantrums, but the remainder of my time went to sternly directing truckers and their "lot lizards". To this day, I am still amazed by the inability and unwillingness these specific individuals had towards taking direction. Trust me, when in "MY" warehouse, things flow more smoothly if you just listen to me. Better yet, things just flow more smoothly if you listen to me in general (ask my ex). Ha! Regardless, I want to share some of my favorite stories with you...

Captain Bobo
I rarely had guests on my shift, but one night I was blessed with Bel's presence. She was always a good sport, tagged along wherever I went, and tried her hardest to avoid becoming one of "us". Cursing becomes second nature. Vulgar language seems to be a necessity. I tried to gently introduce her to the world of truckers, but as with most things in the warehousing world, there is no gentle way of doing things. Bel quickly had a VIP seat to a three-ring circus. Stage right: Captain Bobo. Scene: Full charcoal load, straight pull, tipped pallets. Captain Bobo had no money, no motivation, and clearly no ambition. After refusing to pay, he was kindly instructed to pull the pallets off the truck and leave them on the dock for inspection and counts. A couple hours pass, no receiving tags and no Captain Bobo. Bel and I quickly took a trip down the dock, but the captain was nowhere to be found. After a few inquiries and lots of shouting, Bobo arose from his slumber perched atop one of our customer's pallets. Curled up between rolls of toilet paper and corn flakes, Bobo had given up on his job and deemed a nap to be an appropriate consolation prize. With Bel standing behind me watching in shock, I began to sternly inform Bobo that he needed to unload his truck immediately or kindly remove himself from my warehouse. In restrospect, "kindly" may not be an accurate descriptor. Amidst some mumbling and drooling, Bobo slid off the pallets and headed for his truck. Bel and I watched for a few moments as he got back to work, but with Bel in tow, I set off to accomplish more pressing tasks. A few hours later, I noticed that his load and receiving tags were still unaccounted for and unentered in the receiving system. In a state of restrained anger, I marched back down the dock, Bel still in tow, and began searching for Captain Bobo. The search ended as soon as it began because in front of me, on the floor of his trailer, sat the captain. Completely slumped over, drooling, and snoring, he was a sight to behold. His peaceful state didn't stop me from bellowing out a few curse words and promptly ripping him from whatever dream he was enjoying. Without pausing to catch my shaking voice, I instructed Bobo to remove himself from my dock and reschedule his appointment. My receivers would reload his trailer and send him on his way. After all was said and done, Bel had witnessed a typical night, but I think her eyes were opened to the realities of dealing with truckers. After all, each day makes us stronger and wiser...