Fast and the Furious: Diesel Queen

Chapter 2- Asphalt Cowgirl (A Day in the Life)

I stopped at a Wing-Stop on the way back to the garage. You got to love Garlic-Parmesan and Original Hot, at least those are my favorites. I live and work in my workplace in Knightsen as my garage is my house. It wasn't long before my cell phone buzzed, and I got a client whom has hired me for business, "Hello this is L.L. Trucking, how may I help you?" I said answering the phone, "for sure I can do that, so there's a pick-up in Clearlake for Drake's in San Leandro? No problem, sure...I'll be there in the morning,"

I was hired by a family farm in Clearlake to transport hops to a brewery in San Leandro. Speaking of that, I wonder if I have any beer left in the fridge? Just my luck, I am out of Shocktop, but at least I have some Angry Orchard so that works too. The next morning, I washed up and got ready for work. I pulled up a pair of side-buckle leather pants and pulled down a grey t-shirt. I hitched my rig to a food grade hopper which I washed out with the hose a few days ago, so she too is ready to go to work just like me.

There is just something about turning that key in the ignition in the mornings. With every haul, you do your part to help people and their businesses. I was now out on the road at seven that morning, and keeping to my schedule. I told the farm owner the other day I would be at the farm between nine-thirty and ten depending on the traffic.

Not every haul is like the one yesterday, but you do hear similar stories like that from time to time on the CB from other truckers on the interstate or at a local diner. This Peterbilt 379 is what is keeping a roof over my head, food on my table, and the bill collectors at bay. I am hoping this haul from Clearlake to San Leandro goes smoother.

My CB was relaying stories from the guys on the road about their hauls and their families in their states. I don't have much to talk about when it comes to family. They, mostly my father, excommunicated me when I went from a job at the office in a steel firm to starting my own business in the trucking world. There aren't many independent truckers like me. Most truckers work for large scale corporations hauling their goods. I first started working with Western Distributing before I started working on my own.

Those were some of the best looking rigs I have ever driven. The pay was not what I had expected, but it gave me some experience under my belt. That Peterbilt 379 was the first rig I ever bought with my money. When I started working on my own, business was slow but my reputation for quality soon earned my high payment from clients.

It was an opportunity for me to get my feet wet. From what I learned with them, I took with me and started L.L. Trucking. Sometimes I get calls like this, and other times I don't get any calls at all. Most of the day, I take care and maintain my rig from polishing and washing the wheels and trailers to cleaning out the cab. Other times, I am changing the oil or parts. This is why your mother keeps telling you to clean your room. Some day, you will thank your mother for that when you start living on your own.

My pants are black and tight-fitted with fourteen side-buckles and knee-length zippers on the sides. These are one of my favorite pairs of pants, practical and comfortable. The buckles chimed like the spurs on a cowboy's boots. I had no trouble getting to my destination, and my trailer was filled with hops that are to be hauled to the brewery.

After a few minutes and checking the tubes and cranking up the stabilizers, I was on the road and making good timing with my haul. Exhaust puffed from the straight pipes and I put on road music. Paranoid by Black Sabbath sounded like something for the road. When the job was done, I passed through San Carlos, and stopped in for lunch.

Izzy's was open. A good steak lunch never hurt anyone on the road. If you want some advice as a trucker, one way to get rid of the grumps which gets a lot of truckers from long hours and traveling on the road is food and rest. Food for energy, and rest to relax your nerves. Food takes up a larger commodity than rest at times. Lastly, you have to keep in shape. Taking care of my big girl is hard work let me tell you. I ordered a New York strip steak with fries and creamed spinach for lunch. I am regular at this place.

A thing to keep in mind in this line of business is have some manners around people and at the dinner table. Although you spend a lot of your time on the road, you should not let out any frustrations out on other people. I know you have to deal with drivers around you doing stupid stuff, but you have to learn to let it go. Also no one likes a slob.

I have to park the rig over at the hotel parking lot, and walk over for a bite to eat. A job was done, now I had time to relax and eat a nice warm meal. As I was eating, I had the feeling I was being watched. At first I paid no mind to it, and went to the wash room to clean up for the trip home. As I was washing my hands, I recognized the young woman washing next to me. I clinched a fist under the flowing water, but I did not want to make a scene. I have enough trouble with the cops giving me love letters as it is.

I ignored her, and went back to my rig after paying for my meal. The day was done, and I was to get my paycheck for my haul by next Tuesday. When I went back to my garage in Knightsen, and fell down on the bed like a fallen tree. I tapped my butt with my hands and fell asleep for a much needed nap and time away from the freeway.

A few hours later, my cell phone buzzed. It looked like another client, but I have caller ID and the number said 'restricted', "Hello this is L.L Trucking, how may I help you?...I see...so where do you want me to meet you? Terminal Island? Right...but what's in it for me? Okay, so you will let me know when I arrive? Okay...merci beaucoup, ciao,"

I had a hard time trusting this phone call as I hung up my cell phone, and the voice sounded familiar. It sounded like the guy whose gang tried to hijack my rig last week. I was to come alone, and bobtailing. That means I am driving without a trailer. I pulled up my leather pants, pulled down a fitted grey tanktop, and placed my knife in the boot sheath. I was told this would be an off-book job for me. I stepped into my rig, started up the engine, flipped on the switches and the headlights and drove out into the night.

It is a long drive from Knightsen to Long Beach. It could see the sun coming up over the mountains, and the truckers were just starting the day as well. I was told to keep my CB on their channel while I was driving to my destination. My shotgun was loaded with a full magazine in case these guys try anything. It was the early hours of the morning when I arrived at Terminal Island in Long Beach. Little kids would probably be waking up for school by now. Still, I really did not know what to expect next from these guys.