Quote:
Originally Posted by Jim B.
Man, Nick, what a life....I had no idea there was THAT much coffee involved in driving a truck. But then, I am not surprised...a long time ago I worked at a store and we went outside to help unload the trailer. We went and tried to talk to the driver, but something was wrong. His eyes were like saucers and he looked dazed and couldn't seem to talk well. He had just driven the big rig non stop from Indianaopolis to our store in Sacramento, I am sure he must have used some kind of drug to keep going. More than coffee.
I always try to never abuse truckers on the highway by cutting in front of them, always signaling well before changing lanes and try to keep well out of their blind spot. They can't stop on a dime or change direction quick like a car, and once they start to jack knife, there is big trouble. Years ago, one of the mbcoupesters, Ken Bucks, had his 560SEC destroyed by TWO jack knifed trailers up in Washington (he was unharmed)
Luckily, the majority of truckers are like you, VERY cautious and responsible, it is always the bad few that get the headlines. I can only imagine the view of the driving public that the long haul drivers must have. It must be utterly different than what we in cars can imagine
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Yes, we have a very different oppinion of "four, six, and ten wheelers" out here than many people think. Most four wheelers especially are a big problem. They go either, too fast, too slow, or just do stupid, unsafe things. Not that I don't do 115 mph sometimes in the truck, but I still do it much more consiously, and safely than the four wheelers drive at 50 even.
Four days ago, I was stung three times, by a scorpion, and had to be rushed to the hospital. I've been there from late wednesday, till a few hours ago. I knew I couldn't drive though. In the Ambulance, all I could think about was "does this dude know how to drive?" I'd bet his siren is all that saved our asses on atleast three occasions in the ten miute drive to the E.R.
Whew...What an experience. I'm just happy the bastard stung me, instead of my seven lb. Miniature Dacshund "Josey Leigh" I was out letting her run around, and sat on a horrizontal piece of telephone pole, set up as a curb at the truck stop. I got stung on my hip. Guess I sat down right next to the bastard, and was apparently unwelcomed company. He stung me on the side of my left hip, and I stood up. I walked two/three more steps, and collapsed. Good thing I was on the edge of the open parking lot, in plain sight of everyone. Some dude came running up, and called 911.