After getting up this morning, I headed over to the shipper, which happened to be in a small, crowded industrial section of downtown Chicago. Translation: Tight quarters. I checked-in and was told to go to the end of the street, turn around, and park on the left side of the narrow two-lane behind the other two trucks.
So, to get to the end of the street, I had to squeeze past the trucks on my right and the guard rail on my left. Obviously, this required taking the only available lane of traffic. Of course at the same exact moment I pull into that lane, some hot-shot in a car comes flying up the road in the opposite direction and decides I should back up so he could get through. Look, people. That's just not how it works. I don't know why; I don't make the rules, I just follow them. After a standoff that lasted long enough for vehicles to pile up behind both of us, some pissed-off big dude with a mustache and thinly braided pony-tail (read: scary looking) approached the car and convinced the driver that he should get out of the way.
With Custer's Last Stand over with, I assumed my position in line. A couple hours later, I was loaded and ready to go. Save for some construction in Indiana, traffic wasn't too bad. I'm set to deliver in Cherokee tomorrow and then I get to play the wait-and-see game to find out when my load out of Cherokee will be ready. Fun times.
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