Bad Truck Karma, I Guess

Yesterday was Truck Day in Crazy Land. Late yesterday afternoon, I got a call from the Branch Manager in Virginia to report the theft of one of our trucks from our client's site. They noticed it missing yesterday morning, but thought it might be "lost." They searched everywhere, he told me, and finally decided to report the truck stolen. I got Branch Manager's call a couple of hours later. He wanted to know if there was anything else he should do. Well, yes. That's why we have insurance.

It's 10:00 o'clock and I have now spent two hours trying to find the correct person to talk with at our insurance company. I still don't have it. By the time I get that information, they'll have already found the stupid truck. This isn't even something I do. I'm the Workers' Comp person, not the Liability, Business Auto, everything else person. Nonetheless, if I get a call about any of those issues, I'm duty bound to take care of it. I hate it that I'm so responsible and accommodating.

The other big truck news from yesterday involved our 1986 flat bed truck. We have four flatbeds in town, but the other three are in use at clients' sites. We've have a project in a city about 40 miles from here that requires some (apparently) rather large items from our warehouse. I didn't even know we still have a warehouse.

The Ladies' Man had some help getting everything loaded up on the truck and set off to the client's site. He got there, but as he drove into the parking lot, the elderly truck gave up the ghost. Ladies' Man tried several times to start it, but had no luck. Unfortunately for him, he had to get Loathsome involved at that point.

Loathsome's solution was to get in his own truck and head on out to try to jump start it. That didn't work, either. I saw them both arrive here at the office around 2:00, when the temperature was somewhere in the upper 90's and the heat index around 100 degrees. Ladies' Man left his truck, got into Loathsome's and off they went. LM looked like he might prefer to have a stroke or massive cardiac event.

They drove the 40 miles back to the parking lot, unloaded whatever it was they had on the flatbed and loaded into other trucks (not flatbeds). This morning, the flatbed is still taking up way too much space in our client's parking lot. Both the Ladies' Man and Loathsome are completely humiliated.

Another hour has come and gone. I've just had my fourth phone call with our insurance rep who still can't tell me who the go to person is for my auto claim. It feels like home. Crazy Land is everywhere.