Chapter 17: A nail in the coffin

Having run out of drivers (apparently you are suppose to pay them) and cost exceeding income the end was in sight. My house was slowly turning into a pathetic excuse for a failing trucking company and I was starting to get calls on my cell phone (the one in the company's name) inquiring about freight loads and truck payments. Being a sympathetic person I decided to start answering them.

Like a cowboy looking down on his horse that just went lame I felt it was my duty to put a bullet in the company head.
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Me: “Hello this is B#$%@ Trucking can I help you.”

Customer: “Yes, I was calling to see if you had a truck in the Phoenix area?”

Me: “Yes I do but he won’t be let out of lockup till he sobers up a little.” I can have him there by 6 tonight.”

Customer: Click
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Me: “Hello this is B#$%@ Trucking can I help you.”

Customer: “Do you have someone around Dallas?”

Me: “Is this in reference to drugs, prostitution or freight” I need to know so I can direct your call.”

Customer: Click
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Me: “B#$%@ Trucking, you call we haul.”

Customer: “What do you have in the Nashville area?”

Me: “I gotta 48’ flat I can have there today.”

Customer: “Great”

Me: “You don’t need him to go through Illinois do you.”

Customer: “Yes, why?”

Me: “ ohh, we may have a problem.” Due to some weird pedophile law thingy he isn’t allowed in Illinois.”“I could send him through Missouri and Iowa.”“No wait he’s still got a warrant in Iowa.”

Customer: Click
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Customer: “Hello, do you have a driver in the San Diego area?”

Me: “Sure do but he has a partial load he’s picking up just south of you.”

Customer: “Well I only need room for a 20’ conex.

Me: “I think we can work it out.”  “He is picking up 2 20’ conex’s there but I’ll check to see if we can squeeze them all into a single container.” “I think if they are all standing they will fit.”

Customer: “Sir, what cargo is he picking up first?”

Me: “Well, it’s less of a what and more of a who.”

Customer: Click

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Me:  “House of the unholy, Satan speaking.”

Credit company: “Uh yes, is this B#$%@ Trucking”

Me:  “Sure, why not.”

Credit company: “I’m calling about the late payment on a 2003 Volvo.”

Me:  “And?”

Credit company: “We were wondering if you were going to make the payment sir?”

Me:  “Have I made one lately?”

Credit company: “No sir, you haven’t”

Me:  “Well I don’t want to be one to break a trend.”

Credit company: “Sir this is serious.”

Me: “Sirius the satellite radio company?” I can’t afford my trucks, why would I want a satellite radio?” You’re not to bright are you?”

Credit company: Click

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Credit company: “Is this Mr. R*&^% B%$#@.”

Me: “How should I know who you are and I think it’s a little unprofessional to make me guess.”

Credit company: “Sir we are going to be forced to take action against this account if payment arrangements cannot be made.”

Me: “Are you telling me you are going to repossess it and take it from my property, forever.”

Credit company: “Yes sir that is a possibility”

Me: “Make it so my good man.” I’ll put a ribbon on it for you.

Credit company: “So sir you are willing to proceed with a voluntary repossession?” 

Me: “Only if you take my mother-in-law as well.” “I’ll help load her.”

Credit company: Click
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Cell phone company: Hello, this is T-Blowhole and we are calling in reference to your delinquent account.

Me: “You mean you have an account just for our delinquents?” “Awww, that’s nice.”

Cell phone company:  “No sir, this is about your cell phone service.”

Me:  “I wasn’t aware they needed serviced but OK.”

Cell phone company:  “No sir, you misunderstand.”

Me: “No I’m not Ms. Understand but I can page her if you like.”

Cell phone company:  “Sir, we are calling for Mr. B#%$@ in reference to his business account.”

Me:  “But if you are the cell phone company why do you need his business account?”  “Are you looking into investing in failed businesses and need an example of one?”

Cell phone company:  “Is this Mr. B#%$@?”

Me: “Well since you sound like a woman I’m gonna say…..No?” It’s just a guess though.” Now if you asked if you were Mrs. B#%$@ you may have got me.” “This is fun, let me try.”  “Am I Mr. Trump?”

Cell phone company:  “Sir, if this matter isn’t handled we will be forced to turn off your service.”

Me:  “Awww, how will we talk and play the guess who I am game.”

Cell phone company:  “Please have Mr. B#%$@ call us back when he can.”

Me:  “Well OK, but It may be a little tough since you are shutting his phone off.”  “You guys aren’t very smart are you?”

Cell phone company:  Click.

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I could finally see a light at the end of this pathetic tunnel. Funny thing about light; sometimes it seems closer that it actually is.

Story time with Aaron

It was 1986 and I was a young airman on my way to save the world. I just had to make one stop first:

I’m in the middle of nowhere Arizona.  It’s hot and dusty and since we had nothing better to do with 24 hours off we decided to go to Mexico.  We were a ragtag group thrown together to work on ending the cold war (yes, I’ll take credit for that).  I got here because I was brave enough to volunteer for a world wide remote assignment.  A glutton for punishment I suppose.  Since I and many of the other volunteers were in an area of the country that we have never had the pleasure of before we decided to venture out and explore the great south west. As any large group will do, we broke down into smaller groups and formed friendships. Anyway, one of our little group of four morons decided we needed to visit south of the boarder.  His quest was to find the El Burrow show.  We pile into a car that I had bought for $300 and off we went.  Now I had never been to Old Mexico before and knew this would be quite the experience, but my traveling buddies were bound and determined to ensure we get locked up in a Mexican jail.  As soon as we enter into the border town I felt as if I had walked into a third world country.  I have since been graced with accommodations in regions of the world that made this place look like Club Med but for my first venture into this realm of sub-living it was quite the eye opener. 

“The first thing we need to do is find a club” one of my compañero’s exclaimed.

A taxi cab pulled up and asked us if we needed a ride.  Idiot number 2 spoke up. Screaming “El burrow show.” “Can you take us to the El’ burrow show.”  I’m now shaking my head in disbelief.  Partly because I can’t believe this guy wants to see a chick get it on with a donkey and partly because we are probable the first Americans to actually chase a Mexican taxi away.

After walking for a while we decided to try a new tactic.  The new idea was to find a club and hang out there for a while. Moron number one waved down a taxi and said “take us to where the girls are”.  Hind sight being 20/20 that was probably not the best way to phrase that statement.  We piled into a 1973 LTD and off we went. 

If you have ever been to a border town you know that some areas are at best just O.K. and some are better left to the lower life forms.  We had ventured about 5 miles past the latter.  Stopping abruptly in front of the only building with any resemblance of life the cabbie said, “Girls inside”.  We waved bye to Pablo and stepped out of the cab.  I looked at my fellow gringos and said, “This is a mistake”.  “Let’s just get a drink and check it out” one of them said.  I looked at Mr. Burrow and said, “Don’t even ask about the fucking donkey show”.  A look of disappointment was his only response.

Dark, dank and really eerie is the best way I could describe club kill whitie.  We sat down on the bench in a half rounded booth with one side exposed as if for chairs that the owner could not afford. A waitress of sorts came over and asked us what we wanted to drink.  As she was walking away, 4 of the lovelies ladies the club had to offer came up and pulled the table out from us.  Taking their place between each of us the asked if we could buy them a drink.  This in itself was not what worried me, for I would gladly buy what loosely resembled a woman a drink if it meant sparing my life. It was the big muther phuckers that walked out of the back room and stood by the door that caused me concern.  My friends seemed more interested in their prospective dates. 

I don’t drink, and have no Idea what a beer went for in 1986, but $20 seemed a little high for me.  One look from Sloth at the door and my beauty had her beer.  I leaned over the girl to my right with the rather large stomach and told my sidekick that I felt it was time for us to leave.  He looked back at me and said.  “Dude, I think I can score with this girl.”  As if there was any doubt to the fact.  I then gladly informed him that his girl was with child and I’m questioning the gender of girl number 3.  After coming to their senses we decided it was time to leave.  We need a plan to get out without upsetting the thugs at the door.  Just then Mr. Donkey exclaims “well, I’m broke”.  His girl quietly got up and left.  Like dominos, one by one we all discovered that we had no more cash to spend.  Are girls gone, we walked out without problems and stood outside in the glow of a setting Mexico sun.

It was at this point the realization that we were a good 5 miles inside of enemy territory and no taxi in sight.  Not to mention that hailing a cab would prove to the club onlookers that we indeed still had cash.  We headed off in a northerly direction in hopes of finding the touristy side of town.  Cars without wheels and trash everywhere.  People stopping and staring at these 4 idiots walking around where they obviously shouldn’t be.  We made it two blocks and came out on the same street we originally hailed the taxi at. That fugger took us over 4 ½ miles out of the way to pad the bill.  We were back in somewhat safe territory and back on the prowl…………..