Sometimes, no matter how much preparation you put in, things will still be screwed. Such was the case yesterday with Craig's deliveries. Oh sure, the first one went like clock work, but it was just tempting the trucking Gods too much to hope that the next two drops would go as smoothly.
As was expected, the receiver in Livermore still had the issue of the tight quarters in the dock area, but to add insult to injury, they took well over 3 hours to unload 3 pallets of meat. Then once he got to the receiver in San Francisco, about 30 minutes ahead of his appointment time, they informed him that his appointment was actually 5pm, not 4pm, and that he would have to vacate the premises until his appointment time. Oh yeah, let's see how many spots you can find in San Francisco to park a 18 wheeler!
Driving around for awhile, Craig finally saw some trucks parked along a street and thought he just might as well park there too. It served him well, and at the new appointed time, he pulled into the receiver again to find the docks still full. Inquiring inside, and after reminding them that they had indeed said he would have a dock at 5pm, they booted a Foster Farms driver out, which made him a tad bit upset, but at least Craig was in a dock.
You would think life would be great at that point, but as Craig's 14 hour driving clock was dwindling fast, he started thinking of what his options would be. Since he started the day at 6am to get to his first stop in Sacramento, he could only drive up until 8pm. But as it turns out, driving would be the last thing he would be doing.
Tick Tock.....Tick Tock.....the 14 hour clock runs out and Craig is still in the dock and the last pallet is finally unloaded from the trailer just after 8pm. All Craig can do is pull out onto the street, park, and pray that it is a place he can legally stay for at least 8 hours before he can legally drive again. He notices a couple of trailers parked here and there, and walks the street for a bit to make sure there are no posted "no parking" signs. Feeling somewhat confident, he crawls into bed and hopes for the best.
Awaking around 4am, he does the "peek out the curtain" routine to see if there was a ticket anywhere on the truck. Finding none and breathing a sigh of relief, he proceeds to get as far away from San Francisco as he can, before the morning commute starts. He has an easy drive into the yard in French Camp, where his truck is promptly put into the work bay, and I am waiting to whisk him away for a nice hot breakfast at the restaurant down the street.
It seems all is right in our little trucking world again. Although it had it's rough moments, the last load was successfully completed, with a boatload of detention pay, the truck has been repaired, and Craig has a full belly. It may not have worked out as we planned, but it worked out okay, and we'll take that outcome any day.