December 19, 2025, Friday.
Coldwater, Michigan.
2 days left until winter comes. Days are not days on the north side. The morning passed in snowfall. I freeze every time I get out of the truck.
Now they will load 20 tons of sausages from here tonight and I will take these sausages to the Mexican border, to California, driving for a few days.
Last week I had also transported apples from Washington to California. Then I picked up peppers from California and took them to New York. Yesterday they loaded leaves from New Jersey, I brought them to Michigan. I don’t know what kind of leaves they were, but the loaders were Arab, and the unloaders in Michigan were too. Maybe they were the leaves needed for dolma, for sarma, I didn’t pay attention.
My dad’s death, mourning, the cemetery – my sibling asked me to send $2650 in total within a month. We divided it into four installments. I sent 650 dollars each last Friday and today. Two installments left.
Dying is expensive too.
They had overloaded the apples last Tuesday and we had lost a whole day for this. It was no longer possible for me to make the appointment times given by the place I was going to deliver. We agreed with the broker company to deliver them a day later.
When I arrived a day later, the security lady said that company doesn’t work without an appointment. The broker was supposed to call and renew the appointment but they didn’t. I’m used to such things now. I said okay, went and slept at the truck stop. Of course I informed our company first, they reached the broker and hours later they said they got an appointment for Friday morning.
We lost a day in California, as you can see, but it’s not important. I’m just resting. While I was free, I went and renewed my driver’s license. Got it out of the way.
Friday morning was very frustrating. I went on Thursday evening. This time there was a gentleman as security. He said, park over there, come to the gate at a quarter past 4 in the morning. I said okay, went and slept. There was another truck besides me parked on the side, waiting for the morning. After I fell asleep, a couple more trucks lined up behind me.
Around 12 at night, another security guy knocked on the door this time. He says waiting here is forbidden, go park on the street. We say “the other employee told us ‘sleep here'”; he says “don’t lie, I am their manager, my employee wouldn’t say such a thing.”
Grown men, we are arguing nonsensically like children. Why would we lie, brother. Anyway, we got the hell out and took our place on the street.
We are waiting with one eye open, so as not to lose our spot. As the time approached 4 am, I saw the truck in front of me start moving. I followed right behind him. We stopped halfway down the road again, but someone else passed us and approached the gate. When security let him in, we figured intakes must have started.
But no, the security guy came and chased us away again. We said “it’s already 4, there’s not much left till half past 4,” but he informed us that half past 4 was also wrong. Nobody could enter here before 5 o’clock. Now the problem is, if we return to the street, we’ve lost our spot there too, but the security guy is more powerful than us. We have to do whatever he says. He represents the customer and the customer is always right, you know.
We returned to the street, waiting for 5 o’clock at the end of the line.
At 7 minutes to 5, I saw the security let a truck inside. And there was an Indian truck driver in front of me, he also drove towards the gate. I followed right behind him. This time he let us inside. This time we are trying to explain our problem to the other drivers. They say why did you cut in front of us, we say we’ve been waiting here since the night.
It was a terrible morning.
Then we waited a long time inside too. It took them 5-6 hours to unload and count the cargo. I’m going to miss the appointment time at my second destination again.
Let alone the appointment time, I was even late for the warehouse’s closing time completely. It apparently closes at 12 noon, but they waited another 15-20 minutes because they knew me and others like me were coming.
Their work took 5-6 hours there too. In the evening, I went further south to the Mexican border in San Diego to pick up a new load. I made it there a few minutes late too, they should have been closed but again they quickly loaded 2 pallets there and I left for the address where I’d pick up my second load, Yuma, Arizona.
Early in the morning, this time I’m waiting for the warehouse in Arizona to open, but I waited in vain for that too. They were missing a pallet there too, we waited for it all day. I could only set out for New York at 12 midnight. During the day, I went to a meatball place again, left a 15 dollar tip for a waitress with big boobs. Big boobs win.
The girl was fat but I don’t care, as long as the boobs are big, she can be fat if she wants. I like them fat anyway, it’s not like I don’t.
I discovered an Armenian restaurant on I-80 in Pennsylvania. Exit 192. Kavkaz Restaurant. Man, I’ve been coming and going for how many years, I saw it for the first time just now. Ah, maybe it just opened, I wouldn’t know then. Both on my way to New York and coming from New Jersey, I stopped there twice to eat. At first, I thought it was a Georgian restaurant, but then talking to the kid at the register, I learned they were Armenian. I had been tipping the kid well for two days too. When I learn people are Armenian, I feel a shame as if I killed their fathers. I try to be extra nice as much as I can out of embarrassment.
Inside the warehouse in New York, there’s a buffet owned by an old uncle named Ted. This is my second time coming to this warehouse too. I also like making that grandpa money. Because my dad died three weeks ago, it crossed my mind as if that grandpa’s life is going to end soon too. I did various clowning around just so he would smile. He probably thought ‘this guy is crazy’ and finally smiled.
I spent the night nicely sleeping at a truck stop. I felt like drinking a beer but then I gave up. In the morning I drove to New Jersey to pick up a load. On the road, I informed the company that the truck had a malfunction. For two or three days, the vehicle was shaking like crazy when at a certain speed level. The safety department said you should have informed us beforehand, I went crazy. I have power over them. I cursed and swore.
I can’t report every little thing either. If it happens twice, three times in a row, I’ll report it. I said these things and all. Of course, no one could say anything. Because there’s a driver shortage. So I am abusing this situation. Because I’m human and like every human, I’m a dishonorable son of a bitch.
They gave me the wrong address to go to anyway. Man, how can you give a wrong address in New Jersey? The streets are already narrow, I barely arrived, but the address is wrong. An uncle there told me. He said it’s been a year since they moved. Then he saw I was asking too many questions, gave me a “fuck off” look, and got rid of me.
I talked to the company again. They apologized for the wrong address. They sent a new address. I drove for another hour. When I arrived, I encountered Arabs. But she was a very beautiful woman at the window. She treated me like an idiot, but due to her beauty, I could consent to any treatment from her. I’m exaggerating a bit, but of course, this is what happens when you stay away from sex workers (love workers) for a long time. I love Middle Eastern women, brother. Turkish girls, Arab girls, Persian girls are all very beautiful girls.
The reason I got treated like an idiot was that I didn’t open the door and go in after pressing the buzzer. How should I know, it turns out if I pulled the door as soon as I pressed the buzzer, it would open. But if you wait and then try the door, it doesn’t open. This might be a simple, ordinary thing for the people working there, but I am at the door of a different warehouse every day and the other doors I encountered were not like this. But here we are, getting treated like idiots everywhere every day. I don’t even defend myself anymore. When I say “Yes, you are right, how stupid of me,” and smile embarrassedly, the other side likes it very much. That’s what I do now too. The best thing is to play dumb. Let people be happy. Let them be happy so they don’t make our already hard lives even harder.
They loaded the leaves, handed me the invoice, the weight says 44 thousand pounds. I said, look, this might be too heavy. But there’s nothing to do. First, I will go and get on the scale. The nearest scale on my route is an hour away, with the contribution of traffic. If I go and come back, we will lose at least one day again, but there’s no other choice.
Maybe the invoice is wrong, I thought. You never know. That has happened a few times before too. An hour later I pulled up to the scale and took a deep breath. For two minutes I betrayed atheism and prayed to God that the weight would come out below the limit. And God accepted my prayers. Indeed, the number written on the invoice was very wrong. Let alone 44 thousand, the load wasn’t even 40 thousand pounds. Even though God accepted my prayers and proved his existence, because I’m an asshole, I betrayed him again and returned to atheism again once my business was done.
This morning we delivered the leaves and now I’m at the sausage place. I came at 3 o’clock, they didn’t find the trailer clean enough and sent me to the wash. I waited a long time at the wash. The weather is cold, the inside of the trailer was cooled for the sausages, first we heated it up. Otherwise the water freezes while washing. The washing took a long time too because the guy washing it knows this sausage place is meticulous. That’s why he washed it for a long time, made it spotless, bless him. I returned, I’ve been waiting for hours, they are loading it now, it’s 11 in the evening.
From here I will cross to Illinois for repairs. Tomorrow, whenever the repair is finished, the road to California takes 3 days. Supposedly I was going to make it for Tuesday morning, but I think that’s hard now too. We’ll live and see.
The truck business is a job that requires a lot of patience. When the money is good, we put up with it, of course. We are dogs for money. Not for money, we are dogs for boobs, but sex workers (love workers) need money too. They support families after all. I still don’t know when I will go to visit them. I just dream about it. Dreams are already more beautiful than lives anyway. From time to time I get tired of living, but for now, continuing to live. Life is short anyway, this too shall pass. Of course, the best thing is to be rich. Boobs every day, boobs every day. We are the soldiers of Ela Rümemeysa Cebeci.
These girls are beautiful girls (adult film stars): Ellie Shoule (just discovered her). Becky Summer (discovered her 7 months ago).
I’ve put this on a loop for days, listening to it:
Turns to ash in your heart in time Burning, burning, burning, burning…
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