Tuscumbia, AL

I made my delivery in Ringgold this morning and headed to Dalton to get loaded. I've been to the shipper before, so I have the routine down: pull onto the scales, sign-in, put on orange safety vest, wait for an open dock. Though normally, the receptionist doesn't express concern for my safety; she explained that I was about to make a bunch of big truckers very unhappy. Turns out, she was right. All thirteen docks were full and there were five trucks waiting in line for a dock to open up. Several of them had been there for hours. Unfortunately for all of them, the shipper didn't have their loads ready. Fortunately for me, I wasn't them. The receptionist said she would open up a dock for me since I was the only one whose load was ready. I pulled around back and was looking for a place to park out of the way, when another driver stopped me. Noticeably exasperated with the whole situation, he pointed out a place to park and explained that he was third in line and those two trucks over there were before me. Apparently, he had been there a while and wasn't happy about it. Since he was trying to be helpful, I didn't tell him I was about to cut in front of him and everyone else. A dockworker came over and told me a dock was open and I could back in. Before I even got it in gear, the driver that was "first in line" was backing in. Guess he didn't get the memo. Someone must have said something, because a few minutes later he pulled out and the dockworker motioned me to back in, which I gladly obliged. That's when the three drivers had a little pow-wow and were all staring at me and shaking their heads. They definitely got a raw deal, but only because the shipper ordered a bunch of trucks and ended up not having the product to put on them.

With my load complete, I headed up the road to get fuel and scale. What? The scale is out of order? Great. Ever since the last scrap paper load, I've been getting pulled into the scales quite a bit, so I didn't want to take the risk. I drove south a couple miles to another Pilot with a scale. Seriously, I think these recycling places get together and conspire against me. Fifteen-hundred pounds over on my tandems meant a return trip to the shipper to get one bale taken off the back of the trailer. And I didn't have to wait the second time, either. I could get use to this.

I made my delivery in Cherokee this evening, but my next load won't be ready until tomorrow. After picking-up, I'll be headed back to Georgia for the weekend.