The Adventures of Katwoman, Chapter Two

After 2 1/2 days of driving, stopping at nearly every truck stop from Wisconsin to Baltimore, I finally arrived at the receiver. My "first". Nice man. To my dismay, the receiving area was a small parking lot, and there was no place to turn around to get a proper "set-up" for putting my big "large car" OTR truck in the dock. I would have to "blind-side" it in. Blind-siding is manuvuering your truck from the right side, as opposed to the left side. If you were parallel parking a car, you know that you use your right hand mirror to park...Well, it's the same principle with a truck. Unfortunately, with a truck, especially one with a sleeper, it is 500 times more difficult, and not taught or encouraged by the S&S T/T school from where I graduated in 1996. If you have no choice but to blind-side, you really need a "spotter" or helper outside the truck to give you hand signals, and help you navigate safely. The bay door was open, and I could see the receiver was impatient for his freight.

I struggled for a half an hour...forward a few inches, back a few inches., The clutch was so tight that my left leg ached, and trembled from the exertion and subsequent muscle fatique. I cussed like a long-shoreman, and at one point, burst out into tears in abject frustration. It was an exultant moment when I realized that, finally, she's IN!!! Got the damned truck into the dock, and with slightly shaky legs, started to climb down out of the truck, when I heard the receiver boom out with, "HEY LADY! YOU FORGOT TO OPEN YOUR 'BARN DOORS'!!!" "Oh, Lord, NO...!",

I was mortified. Embarrassed beyond belief, I climbed back up, and did a pull-up...opened and secured the doors, and repeated the above process of inching forward and back. A few more tears snuck out, and my mascara was totally ruined. I quickly wiped the evidence of distress from under my eyes, and began walking into the warehouse. I was just a few steps short, when this man started bellowing again, "HEY LADY!!! THIS ISN'T MY FREIGHT"!!! This was not a happy customer, and I was confused...I TOOK the load that "Marc", the dispatcher told me to take. Naiive little newbie "trucker" that I was, I believed him, and didn't double check my paperwork before I left out of Wisconsin. Lesson number one: Dispatchers are notorious for telling you one thing, and doing another. I remember calling the 1-800 number for the company. Spoke with another dispatcher. I tried to sound "manly" by cussing assertively, (or so I thought the way I perceived a 'burly, manly' trucker might speak). This did not gain me favor, I assure you. In no uncertain terms, I was told to "RETURN TO THE TERMINAL IMMEDIATELY".

After numerous and heartfelt apologies to the receiver, (and blaming the dispatcher for the screw-up), I was on my way back to contented cow land. I agonized the whole trip back. Used up the rest of my Kleenex tissues. The loss of this new job was a real fear in my mind, and I doubted that I could even collect unemployment if I were to be terminated, which was a certain possibility. I believe that being a woman, and a very blonde one at that, saved my butt. They also took into consideration how "green" I was, and gave me another chance. I was most grateful for that, and vowed to "do better" with my next load. Being that I had the gumption to stand up to tougher adversaries in the past, I truly wanted to succeed and excel in this new-found profession. I may not have had "man-muscles", but I learned that I surely had the heart to try.

My employment with them was over 10 years ago, and I know for a fact that they still use me as an "example", when doing their in-classroom training for the new drivers. "Double check your paper-work before you leave" and "Don't be like that woman who..." I know that they are still laughing at that incident.

Even though the passage of time has soothed a measure of the sting of humiliation, my learning process was still far from over. This was late November. It was Wintertime, and I had many unfamiliar, snow covered roads to traverse. The dreaded "black ice" beckoned. Another learning experience awaited me. I stocked up on more Kleenex, checked my State maps, and aimed the truck toward Route 69 in Illinois.