Monday, January 15, 2007

F.S.A.'s

"I feel like shit..." Limp Bizkit, "Break Stuff"

F.S.A. = Food Service Asshole (that's what I am)
So, here it is, late September 2002, and I'm "back in the saddle," so to speak. I was very excited
to be going back to driving a big rig. WHOAA! Big Fella! Yeah, not so fast. When I first started with this outfit, I was hired basically as a relief driver, meaning I was "on call" 24/7. I'd fill in for guys calling off sick, on vacation, etc. Mostly I was doing these "special deliveries," where you'd
run around Chicago, up to Wisconsin, Indiana, even out to Iowa, usually in a straight truck. In fact, I remember my first really "big" run was up to the UP of Michigan ("Da Yoopers!") Oh, what fun! I had 5 deliveries on a Wednesday, I think, so I had to leave on Tuesday afternoon
about 2:30. It's like 10 hours up there, and by now it's November. I'm driving a sleeper cab
with a 36-foot "pup" trailer. Going up through Wisconsin's north woods was not a big problem:
I had mapped out my route while waiting to be loaded at the warehouse. Then you get up to Iron Mountain, and you think you're close. Ha! No, I was going to Houghton ( pronounced "Ho-
ton" not "How-ton"), which is almost right on Lake Superior.
As I traveled northward, the snow got gradually heavier - it was beautiful on the trees, etc., but not particularly fun to drive in. I must have made it to Houghton around midnight; my first delivery was at a school about 8:00 the next morning, so I drove there, found a spot and
hunkered down for the night. The next morning, I woke to the sound of plows, etc. There was
no hot coffee, which pissed me off, but what can you do? I made my first 2 deliveries no prob., but then came the trouble. I couldn't find the third place, which turned out to be a hockey rink down by the river, so like a moron, I tried to stop and call for directions. Well, I pulled into a gas station, and even with the smaller trailer, wound up hitting a concrete post, tearing up the
ladder under the side door of the trailer. So I find the joint, make the delivery, and then, more problems: couldn't get up the hill of the parking lot. I spun my drive tires, rocked the fucker as best I could, but nothing. They had to call for a front-end loader to come and pour red dirt up under my tires, so I'd have enough traction to get outta there. They use the dirt up there instead of salt 'cause it's cheaper, but man, it gets all over your vehicle. As I was leaving town, I noticed a sign that read "We have two seasons up here: Winter and Almost Winter". Oh, joy!
So, I came back down through Escanaba and Marinette, WI. If you look off to the east, on a clear day, you can see the peninsula of Door County, WI, but damn, was I glad to be outta there. I made it back to the south 'burbs with that ladder hanging by a thread. I'd return to the UP later in my career, but thankfully in summer (Almost Winter).
I would go out with senior drivers, as their "helper," and drive a little bit too. One guy told me, "Try to get a route ASAP, 'cause you'll get more hours, and you'll know where you're going every week." He was sooo right, but it took me about 6 months before I got a route, so I was
doing the relief thing. Not knowing where you're gonna go was the hard part for me: I absolutely HATE surprises! Anyway, I was gaining valuable experience - learning the various products, what they were, how to handle them, etc., the different vehicles, kind of understanding the fucked-up way the warehouse works - all these things helped in becoming the seasoned "pro"
(F.S.A.) that I am today. Brrrrrrtttttt!!!! (toots own horn)

Next: Hoosier Daddy?

More Soon,

Steve