cesimpson

With the Highway 64/40 shutdown through St. Louis, a lot of east-west traffic has been diverted to many of the non-highway major thoroughfares throughout the city. I happen to travel along one of those main roads on my daily commute.

I’ve noticed in the last few days many more trucks than normal - local delivery trucks, 18-wheel tractor-trailers, dump trucks and other heavy construction vehicles, big box trucks…all sorts of big trucks.

For whatever reason, I wondered this morning, as I drove to work, if those drivers of smaller big trucks have an inferiority complex about the drivers of bigger big trucks.

I’ve had to drive reasonably large commercial vehicles for two of the many jobs I’ve had. I never had any sort of thoughts about guys who drove bigger trucks than I did…but they were both ‘jobs’, not careers. They existed to pay for school. I knew I wouldn’t be there forever.

Is it different for those fellas (and ladies too, I guess, though, in general, ladies are much less likely to engage in pissing contests over vehicle size…or any other size, for that matter) for whom driving big trucks is a life-long choice? I don’t know.

Is there a hierarchy? If so, most certainly 18-wheelers carrying hazardous waste or nuclear explosives must top the list. After that, maybe the trucks that carry the HUGE steel beams for bridges and the like?

But what about further down the list? How does a dump truck driver compare to a petrol truck? What about Flower Delivery vs. Medical Supply Delivery?

With all that wondering about silly things, it’s a wonder I made it to work in one piece.

Advice

I gave some advice to a newbie at the gym today.

First, I’ll say, there were 4 new people in the weightroom this morning. Three of them mostly wandered around aimlessly. The fourth went right to work doing preacher curls.

I finished my workout (of deadlifts and overhead presses), showered, and was standing at one of the two sinks in the lower lockerroom, shaving.

One of the wandering newbies walked in, found his way to a stall, and…um…did his business.

When he was finished, he opened the stall door (without flushing) and started to make his way directly past me (and the two sinks) and straight for the door.

As it became clear he was not going to take care of basic hygene, I offered some advice.

“Hey. They filled up the soap dispenser this morning. You should be ok to use it.”

~frozen~ “What?”

“I watched the guy come around and fill up the soap dispensers this morning.” With a point and a nod toward the one next to the sink I wasn’t using. “…I think it works.”

And I reached down and gave it a pump. Hand full of liquid soap, I announced that it did, indeed, work.

“Yep…You should try it.”

I put down my razor and washed my hands in my own sink.

He came over, turned the water on, gave his hands a 3.7 second…not really washing. In fact, I’d say ol’ Samuel L. Jackson said it best when he said, “I saw you get them wet!”

Maybe if the gym had Lava or something. He’s have done a better job.

Gross.

Workout

My workout this morning was crap. Awful. Horrible.

I’ll say no more, so as to not grant it any more power over my day.