First Job, Final Chapter

Happy New Year, Everyone!
I wanted to let you all know that this blog is a FINITE entity. Once I run out of bullshit, that's it!
Fortunately, I haven't run out - not by a longshot! So, let's continue...

From Afton, Wyoming, we deadheaded back to Denver. I remember Manny taking a picture of me standing by the truck, wearing red sweatpants and my old limo jacket (both of which I still own). He later printed the picture out, and I still have it lying around somewhere. I look very cold; after all, it did snow the night before. This is late MAY we're talking about. When we arrived in Denver, I think we picked up a 58' trailer (you're allowed to pull 58-footers in some western states, I'm not sure which). Then we headed back south, and wound up in Laredo, Texas. We may have actually gone into Mexico. I think we did, because I remember being stopped by the border patrol on the way back into the USA, and Manny having to show his passport and green card, etc. I proudly produced my new CDL, and we proceeded on our merry
way. We drove up around San Antonio, and headed east towards Houston. We had a couple of stops in the Houston/Beaumont area I recall, and Manny and I joked around about this waitress at a Denny's in Beaumont. She was "do-able," and we joked whether or not to go back and hit on her. But, both of us being married, it was just a joke.
Manny was due some home time (I think he was out for three weeks, off one) so we started towards Pascagoula, MS. The temptation to stop in New Orleans was great, but Manny was anxious to see the wife, so we bypassed the Big Easy. The Gulf Coast Highway (US 90) runs through Gulfport and Biloxi; really beautiful down there. I was amazed at how many casinos were down there (at the time). Manny lived outside Pascagoula, in Ocean Springs or Gautier,
I'm not sure which. We arrived about dinner time, and Manny's wife, a sweet lady of Carribean
descent, had prepared a "mess of vittles" for us. I mean, steak and sausage and all kind of yummy "man food." We sat around, ate, and joked till it got dark. The plan was to stay there the first night, then ship me off to the motel (which the company paid for) the next day. I felt guilty
about being there, interrupting their "reunion," so I volunteered to go sleep in the truck, which I did. I mean, this was an unusual couple to begin with (a German citizen married to an African-Carribean), and hearing them making love was a little more than I cared to experience.
It was hot down there, and I spent most of my time in the motel room, watching TV. When the sun went down, I'd go for a stroll; there were some fast food/convenience mart places about a mile down the road, and that's where I would venture, sweat dripping off me and all. After two night of mind-numbing television, Manny called and asked if I wanted to go to one of the casinos nearby. His wife worked there, and it was her night to work, so we dropped by. We mainly watched, as all the desperate people squander their life savings in hope of some "luck." I swear I saw some guy signing the title to his car or house at the cashier's desk. I dunno, maybe I imagined it. But you see the same thing at all casinos: the old lady at the slot machine, cigarette
in hand, pulling the one-armed bandit for all she's worth, the dealers, the tourists, etc. We
weren't having any luck at the first place, so we went to the Treasure Bay Casino (I remember, because I still have the coin cup from there). Because of Katrina, I don't think it's there any more, but I actually won $20 at the quarters slots. I was sooo excited! Of course I gave half of it back, but that was the first time I'd won anything in a long time, so it was fun. Now I think a lot about Manny and his wife and how they survived Katrina. I gave up on calling him long ago, for fear of waking him, or bothering him some other way. I hope they made it.
Soon it was time to go back on the road. I'd been begging Manny to take me home. There were
two options for trainees: one, stay out for four weeks, then you could go home for two, I think, or two, just stay out for eight weeks straight. I chose option one, and Manny delivered me almost right to my front door. He was twisting my arm to stay, because then he'd have to go get another trainee, and I'd have to get another trainer. But I was soo homesick, and my old lady was not happy about the whole situtation. And guess what? I never went back...

More in 2007,

Steve