Wherehouse?

I know there isn't one of us out here who hasn't had a little difficulty in finding a shipper or a receiver. This article is an example of just one of those difficult days. This really did happen to me several years ago and I wrote about the experience so I would never forget it. This one example helps to keep me grateful when times are good and everything is running smoothly. Has anything like this ever happened to you? If so, then you can relate, if not, I envy you. Either way, perhaps it will amuse you for a few moments.

WHEREHOUSE?

It is five o’clock in the morning and I am looking for a supermarket warehouse. I had already called the phone number given to me by my dispatcher, but there was no answer, so I turn on the radio and ask another driver for help. I get directions to the facility which happens to be less than five miles away.

When I arrive, I go to the guard shack to check in, and he informs me in a dull monotone that I'm at the wrong building. As if every driver pulling into the gate this morning has made the same mistake.

“You need to go to building three, this is building one.”

I look at him with a smile on my face and politely ask, “Where exactly is building three?” He pulls a pre-printed direction sheet from off of a pad, circles the correct directions, hands it to me and wishes me a nice day.

Southerners are so nice, I think as look for a place to turn around. Leaving ‘building one’ in the manner described in the directions, which I now have a death grip on, (God forbid, I should loose this piece of paper!) I get off the highway at the designated exit, and turn where I’m instructed. I get to the last step in the directions, “Turn left onto Whitaker Mill Road.” This turn puts me on a road bearing a sign that says

“DEAD END”

I'm not overly concerned about this since so many of the warehouses I go to are on these dead end roads. I often wonder though what it must be like to work or live on a dead end road. Do they feel as if this may be some sign that this is where their lives are going?

It’s now five-thirty but still very dark. Maybe this accounts for the fact that I can see absolutely nothing outside of my window, no signs, or lights or buildings for that matter. I don’t even see another truck, which strikes me as very odd considering this is supposed to be a food warehouse.

In either case, in a few short minutes I am looking at the most desolate dead end road I’ve ever seen. I look in my mirrors on either side for some sign of life. Nothing. I am alone on this road, and it is not a good feeling.

“Okay.” I say out loud, trying to dispel the fear, “There is a reason for this. It’s so dark out here I probably just drove past it. I’ll back up a little ways, maybe then I’ll see the place. This is not a problem, I can handle it, because I am, above all things, a professional.” (It is the standard pep talk I give to myself whenever I get myself into trouble.)

I backup about five hundred feet and still don’t see anything. Maybe it’s time to try that phone number again. Picking up my cell phone (which comes in handy in a time like this) I dial the number and get a recording which says, “You must dial the area code before this number.” Fine. I do as I am told and a second recording comes on. “It is not necessary to dial a one before this number.” (It's a wonder I don't have high blood pressure already.)

On the third try, a phone rings on the other end, and I finally get to ask where exactly they are and how do I get there. The man on the other end asks me where I am, and I tell him. Then he says I am on the right road, I just can’t see the driveway.

I want to ask him how I am suppose to turn down a driveway I cannot see, but instead, ask where this driveway is. He tells me to turn around, go back up the road and take the left fork just before the light. I turn around, drive back up the road and sure enough, there’s the turnoff. I swing to the left wondering how I could have made such a hard right from the opposite direction.

I follow the winding road to the loading dock, set my brakes, grab my paperwork and look around. Even though the building is well lit, I still see no people. Not wanting to get caught walking aimlessly around their building, I blow the air horn on the tractor.

In a few minutes an older man comes out onto the dock to glare at me. I climb down out of the truck, walk over to him and hand him my bills. He looks at the paperwork work for a minute before handing it back to me saying, “You’re in the wrong place. What you want is building three, this here is building five.” (‘Stay calm Julie’ a voice inside my head whispers) “Excuse me..” I clear my throat. “Where exactly is building number three?”

He looks over my shoulder and points to an unseen object somewhere in the distance. “What? Over there?” I ask, trying not to appear stupid.

“Yeah.” He says helpfully “Go straight through the intersection and it’s on the other side.”

“What side of the road?” I ask him the patience in my voice barely discernable.

“You gotta go through the light, it’s on that side.” He reiterated with no trace of patience at all.

“Okay. Alright. I say taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. It’s just a lack of communication, that’s all this is, just a simple lack of communication. I turn around to face the traffic light and look over my shoulder at him. “Alright, when I have gone through the intersection, at the light,” I added for emphasis looking back at him again. “Is building three on the left side of the road, or the right side of the road?” I speak slowly, enunciating each word as clearly as I could.

“If you want building number three, it’s on the right side of the road. Okay?” He looked at me over the rim of his glasses to see if I understood him this time.

“Got it!” I said, flashing him a smile and a thumbs up sign. I climbed into the truck, pulled yet another U-turn and drove back down the driveway. After three attempts at the sharp left turn, I made it to ‘the intersection at the light.’ I surprised myself by waiting for the light to turn green. This took almost more patience than I had left in reserve. I turned into the driveway on the right and drove up to the dock. Setting my brakes, I jumped out of the truck and walked up the stairs.

As I entered the office, the dock foreman took my paperwork and turned to a sheet taped to the wall. “This is building three, am I right?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah, this is building three, but your not on this schedule sheet.”

I closed my eyes and smiled. “It’s a Monday!” I say in a whisper.

“I wouldn’t get too worried about it though.” He said. “The supervisor is bringing the revised sheet down with him. You’re probably going to be on it. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“How long will that take?” I asked trying to appear patient.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes, maybe more.” I told him I would wait in the truck, and he said he would come out to get me when he heard something, one way or the other. I thanked him and walked back to the truck.

I climbed up into the truck and went back into the sleeper. Putting on some soothing new age music, I lit a scented candle and stretched out on the bed to relax. An hour later the receiver banged on the side of my truck and told me to back into door four, which I did, with a serene smile on my face. After all, Attitude Is Everything!

I hope you all have a good month. Julie