Money was pretty tight the one fall. While I was waiting for a better gig, I got a job doing some pipefitting at one of these small oil batteries in Central Alberta. The company set me up with a work truck and a helper to get this little project done. We didn’t even have a supervisor, they just let us loose on the world.
This truck was a beast: A beat-up black Ford F550 with a big flat deck and a picker for lifting valves and stuff. The deck on this thing was long and wide, and I wasn’t comfortable driving a monster like that. It was a parking lot hazard.
I decided to call it Old Ferdie.
My helper was a young party animal named James. He was all muscle and no brains. James worked hard once we got to the site, but whenever he stopped moving he fell asleep. Every morning he got in the truck, wadded a sweater up against the window, and passed out with his face leaning on it. This made for some boring drives. I amused myself by slamming on the brakes at odd moments to slam him into the dash.
We had an hour-long journey to the site. Halfway here, I drove through the center of this small town every day — without stopping. It was busy, and I wasn’t comfortable with this much beast on wheels. I felt like a trucker cruising around in a semi or something.
The Job
We were installing galvanized 2” pipe- lots of threading and taping, doping and screwing and swearing. Then some pipe clamps and Bob’s your uncle.
At lunchtime, James would pass out again, face first like a robot with its batteries pulled. What few words he ever gave me let me know that this dude could really put back the booze, and he got in a lot of scraps. Whatever he was doin’ at night, it left him in zombie mode all day. He was just a little better than not having a helper.
We had a couple more weeks to finish up and we would be out of work again. I couldn’t wait.
The Tim Horton’s Drive-through
I usually brought my own coffee. There was no way I could fit this big beast of a truck in those parking lots at the fast-food joints to get anything to go. But one morning I woke up late and didn’t have time to brew a pot.
After I picked up James and we got on the highway, his snoring got super annoying. I was gonna tough it out and just drive to work. What the hell, I figured. One day without coffee isn’t going to kill me.
But as we drove into town, I could see the Timmy’s sign on the left. Maybe I could grab a coffee anyway. Why not?
I don’t know what I was thinking, but I turned at the last minute and swung real wide to get the beast into the drive-through lineup. As the vehicles inched ahead, I calculated the odds. I can make it fit, I thought. It’ll be tight, but Old Ferdy will squeeze through.
“Hi, my name is Susan, what can I get for you?” a chipper young voice asked from the speaker.
I’ll have an extra-large double-double and a pack of Tim-bits,” I said. She told me the total. Then we were advancing toward the moment of truth. It was too late to back out now, a car was in line behind me.
Stuck!
Where the drive-through lane curved around the building, some thoughtful soul placed a post full of concrete to help keep you from running into the building. The edge of the truck deck hit it and started pushing the ass end of the truck sideways. It squealed like a little school kid as the metal of the deck and the post rubbed. I slowly advanced and the deck squealed a little more.
James snored on.
Even with that helpful protective pole, we still had a big problem. Some unhelpful loser had put an electrical box the size of a small car just out of the lane. It was almost in the way of regular vehicles, let alone Old Ferdy. If I didn’t figure out something I was going to clip that box.
I backed up a tad and tried jiggling to the left. Each time, the deck rubbed back and forth on that steel post and made that sickening screech, like Iron Man rubbing his junk a rusty barrel. But it was useless. I was never gonna cut hard enough to miss that box. I tried a couple more times. Shit.
James still stayed asleep, even with all the screeching and bumping.
I backed up again a little. The guy behind me laid on the horn in one steady blast. He was losing patience, and so was I. Why did I do this to myself? I cut the wheel the other way and turn to try to miss that box on the other side.
Right in front of me were a bunch of nice cedar shrubs, a flower bed, and an eight-foot tall aspen tree with a trunk as thick as my leg.
“I’m sorry, tree,” I whispered as I put the truck in 4 wheel drive and pinned it.
Jumping the Flowerbed
Old Ferdy pushed that tree flat in half a second, like a moose running down a tree-hugger.
We bounced over one of those cement parking blocks and rolled out onto the lot on the other side of the hedge. James sputtered and woke up as his head slammed against the window a few times. I hit the gas pedal, imagining all eyes were on us. One car with an older, mean-looking woman had to slam its brakes on to avoid hitting us. I waved at the angry lady and kept moving.
“What’s going on?” James said blearily, holding his head.
“Don’t worry about it, just had to make a quick detour,” I told him. He went back to sleep.
Waiting For Fallout
We cleared the town and headed toward the job site. I was nervous, looking in the rearview, expecting reds and blues at any moment.
I waited all day for a call from the boss. I assumed that Tim Horton’s was gonna call and complain. How could they miss the big company sign on the truck door? I’d probably have to pay for a new tree and some landscaping.
And I never even got my coffee!
But the phone stayed silent.
So for the rest of the job I made sure I didn’t need to go anywhere near a Timmy’s driving Old Ferdy.
Image by Joel ALESCH / Pixabay
I had a good laugh with this one. I have a dodge 3500 long box and I find it challenging in most drive throughs. I couldn’t imagine this beast. Lol
SUCH A GREAT STORY!!! Relatable and very funny!!! Thanks for sharing!!