Cracker-Ass Crackers

Fucking crackers. After re-stacking all that shit, getting drenched in sweat from head to toe, nearly throwing out my back and feeling three or four times like I was going to have a heat-stroke, these fucking assholes refused the load!
Oh, man. This shit only happens on Friday.
My dispatcher said “customer service is talking to the customer to try to assist you.” I’m like, “Dude, they refused the load and told me to leave the property. What can customer service assist me with?”
Well, the load originated in Orlando. If I have to take it back to the shipper, at least that’d be some good miles. I imagined my company is going to want me to do something stupid, though. Like have me sit here all day while they slowly start to comprehend that the customer refused the load. Negotiations are finished. Game over, man!
It just started raining. I don’t know whether to think of that as good or bad. Of course, it’s just drizzling. So it’s probably the Universe’s way of saying “On top of everything else, you look like you could use some extra humidity.”
Gods, I hate Philadelphia.
And Mountain Dew in the fucking cans, too.

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