Monday, July 08, 2024

The Truck Driver

A pleasant evening involved a drive to the top of the mountains on route 260. On the way up to the pleasant overlook the traffic jam going west was the worst imaginable. Traffic was backed up for ten miles all the way up the mountain. It must have been weekend traffic returning to Phoenix. 

Two tractor trailer trucks must have been alerted to the mess and pulled into the very nice overlook at the top of the mountain. Both the drivers were out taking some air. Talking to the first driver Kadizzle realized he had a heavy accent. Kadizzle gave him some advice about how he could park his truck at the casino in Payson for the night. He was going to follow that plan. 

The second driver was sitting at the picnic table perusing his computer. Kadizzle was soon engaged in a conversation that would last for an hour and a half. The 29 year old driver was from Moldavia and he too had an accent. Very strange that two drivers from other countries would be at the same place at the same time. Kadizzle and Moldavia covered the whole spectrum of life. The young man came to the United States with 500 dollars in his pocket at age 20. Now he owned five trucks and had his own trucking company. His girlfriend lived in Bismarck. We talked a lot about how lazy and hopeless young Americans are, how poorly other truck drivers handle their earnings, and about trucking in general. The conversation rambled all over the place, and even included how to select a wife. As the sun set we both headed down the hill to civilization. On the picnic bench two civilizations met. 

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