#datingatrucker

Tucker was home last week. It was wonderful. For 1 precious week, we got to be normal. We cooked meals together, we ran around doing errands, we hung out with our families, we went to niece’s and nephew’s school functions. It was amazing. 

It was entirely too short. 

I drove him back to the truck Monday night, and cried all the way home Tuesday. I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to that. A 92 day countdown sucks!!

So, we spent quite a bit of our home time on the road. I don’t get it- he drives all the time, you would think for his home time, he would want to do anything but drive. Nope- if I’m not at work, we were on the road. I saw more back country than I have seen in 10 years of living in rural Arkansas. At one point, we were driving a back road and came upon a low water crossing. This is where the road is technically underwater- but its not high enough to be dangerous so locals drive across anyway. I was a bit unsure about crossing it- as it looked a bit higher than I was happy with- but we were driving my SUV, and he had crossed it a hundred times as a teenager, so I bit my tongue and let him try. 

Big mistake.

At some point in the last fifteen years, the raised road through the middle of the creek had been moved from the northern side to the southern side. We get just far enough that the back tires were in the water, and start spinning the front tired in loose gravel. The car began to sink and the creek joined us in the cab. 

I completely panicked. I’m level headed in a crisis- as long as I have something to do. But when I am sitting in the passenger seat- I’m not so okay. Well, the water starts coming in, and all the trust I had in his ability to keep us out of trouble went right out the window and it was everything I could do not to cry. Oh we weren’t in mortal danger- I knew that. But my precious car was. 

Good ole Tucker, he kicked off his boots and jumped in the water and started pushing as I moved to the driver’s seat and gunned it back and forth. Nothing at all happened, except the gravel disappearing faster and the water inside getting a little higher. Of course, we were on some back county road where there was no cell service and we sat there working at getting my vehicle out of the water for a good 45 minutes before some ole farmer drove by. After laughing for 15 minutes, he left to get a tractor and hauled our asses out of the creek. 

Once we made it back to a paved road (note we turned around- we did NOT try to cross the creek again, even over the re-located road), it was hilarious. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the mess Tucker got us into. Everyone except my mother. I want her to continue to like him. 

I mentioned in the last post, Truckers have some crazy slang. Here is a list f some of my favorites. 

Bobtail- this is what they call a truck with no trailer. I hear this most often when Tucker is wondering whether he’ll be assigned a local load home, or whether they’ll let him bobtail it. 

Handle- this is the name they use on the CB. Its a nick name of sorts- and usually a good story about how it came to be. Tucker is not my guy’s real name- its his Handle. 

Four-wheeler- that is what they call those of us who drive normal, four wheeled, vehicles. 

Sheep- Another word for normal, four wheeled, vehicles. Or, more accurately, for those of us who drive them. 

Right?- Apparently the correct way to end EVERY FREAKING SENTENCE!!!

Yardstick- this is a mile marker. I guess yards sound better?

Pickle Park- Rest area. No idea. I don’t get this one. I’m fairly certain I don’t want to. 

Lot Lizard- A prostitute who works in a truck stop. Apparently these women are quite persistent and nasty. Tucker has his own special ways of sending them on their way, often involving a bottle of apple juice warmed to body temperature dumped out the window. I get that sometimes, people do desperate things for money, but when a fella says no- leave him be!

reefer- No, its not drugs. Its a refrigerated Truck. . . Usually. Unless its drugs. 

Log Book- The bane of most trucker’s lives. This is where they record the details of their job, how much they drive, everything! This gets checked at stops and by cops and it can cause BIG problems when it gets screwy. Its also one of the most manipulated things out there for way too many truckers. 

Before you start dating a trucker, there are a few things you should give serious thought to. 

1st- Serious or casual? You need to figure out if you are wanting something serious or casual, and make sure you are both on the same page. In any long distance relationship, you will each have opportunities and temptations. Are you guys going to be free to act on them? Make sure you both know! And don’t assume. TALK TO EACH OTHER!!!

2nd- How tough are you? You have to be tough to be a trucker. Well I got news for you- you have to be tough to date one too. Your trucker is NOT going to be able to come hold you if you had a bad day. He’s not going to be able to be home for every holiday. You may not see him for months at a time. Can you handle that? If not- do both of you a favor and don’t start. 

3rd- Don’t beg him to come home or change his life for you. Truckers become truckers for a multitude of reasons. Don’t be that girl who knowingly starts dating a trucker, and quickly starts pushing him to take a regional or local route or quit trucking all together. If he was a trucker when you started dating him, guess what- he’s not gonna want to quit just because you are now dating. And if he does- then he is no kind of man!

4th- Get used to long phone calls. Truckers are alone 90% of their day. talking to them on the phone is one of the best ways you will have to spend time together. Just be aware- he’s gonna be talking about trucking using codes like “Smokey all grown up” “Sheep” and “party row”. Learn the code. Keep a notebook of it if necessary. It will make your life easier. And it will make him giggle when you manage to slip a term used correctly into your conversations. 

5th- Learn a bit about his job. Trucking is dangerous. No lie. But there are things that are more or less dangerous than others. If your man is bob-tailing, you don’t need to stay up at night wondering if he’s okay. If he is blacked out for a high dollar load- it might be worth sending an extra prayer up. If he’s a chicken hauler, well you probably aren't even reading this because those fools date sheep.

6th- Discuss long term plans before you get engaged or married. Don’t make assumptions. Your trucker might be completely happy to spend his life on the high way, coming home occasionally, but knowing he’s doing good things and taking care of his family. If you are assuming that a ring on your finger will pull him off the road- you might want to have a conversation with him. Now, it might. I know Tucker would like to eventually transition to regional or local if we reach the point where we are starting a family. But I know that- because we talked about it!

So, Tucker and I are talking longer and longer, and we very quickly realize- this is not going to be a casual thing. While we may have entered into this thinking (hoping) for a nice date, maybe a friendly face or voice to spend time with, but nothing more, that was not at all what we found.

And here is the first thing I learned about Truckers: They crave softness.

It comes in many forms, usually provided by a woman. It might come in the form of sex, it might just be a kind word or smile from a waitress. Truckers seek out and treasure that softness when they find it in their lives. Now I’m no girly girl. I have been single for most of the last ten years. I can and do take care of myself. I’m very handy and can build or repair whatever you need. But for some reason, I turn into a lump of feathers when Tucker gets on the phone. If you are dating a trucker, its okay to be soft around him. They will respect that as much, if not more, than they will when you are tough as nails.

My life is so different than Tuckers. He spends his days wrangling an 18 wheel wild bull. He deals with people who will abuse him or kick his ass if he shows weakness. He can lift and manipulate hundreds of pounds of whatever he is hauling, and knows more about vehicles than anyone I’ve ever met. He takes the lives of the other people on the road very seriously. And he’s just a little bit superstitious.

I am the director of a senior center. I cater to the elderly, plan events, manage a restaurant, plan fundraisers and am generally the boss to the dozen or so employees I supervise. I am a tough cookie, but a soft one. A bad day for me, means that we got shorted a case of roast beef. A bad day for him means hours of sitting in traffic, having to be a defensive driver for 10-12 hours straight, and getting $0.40 a mile to do so. I tease him that I made $0.52 a mile when I have to drive. And its a sad truth.

Truckers may crave softness, but that doesn’t mean that everyone of them is as loyal or sweet as Tucker. There are many Truckers who will take that softness wherever they find it and may not be too worried about the feelings of the girl(s) they are cheating on to get it. I know that Lot Lizards exist. I know they do a bustling trade. What makes it okay is I know I can trust Tucker 100% to not mess with them. Because you see- there are some truckers who crave something even more than they crave softness.

For the purposes of this blog, the first thing you should know about me, I’m dating an OTR trucker. This is slightly different than a normal trucker. OTR truckers are the hard core dudes that stay on the road the majority of their lives. My guy is on the road 3 months, home for 1 week. All the time. To say that our relationship has its challenges, is an understatement. And thats what this blog is about. My struggles, my joys, maybe find a few of you to give suggestions, and hopefully an interesting story or two. 

A little background. Tucker and I met when he was 12 and I was 14. His daddy was the preacher at my grandparent’s church. He was the “annoying little turd” brother of a friend of mine. We were on the periphery of each other’s lives for most of our teen years. Then, when I was about 17, our lives separated and I didn’t see him again until this past Thanksgiving. My best friend’s Dad has kind of adopted him. I knew this, but I hadn’t seen him since he was 15. When I walked into Thanksgiving at the best friend’s house, my first thought was, ~damn, little Tucker grew up goood!~ followed quickly by ~girl, don’t even- there is nothing good that can come from that line of thought.~

And so we went about our business. We laughed and talked, but that was it. 

I thought. 

Apparently, he had other ideas, because as he went back on the road, he started messaging me on facebook. We’d have quick little philosophical debates and then that would be the end of it. On January 1st, he finally plucked up the courage to ask me out. I said yes, with hesitations. Knowing that my best friend’s parents were “collectors” meaning they tend to collect those most in need of a family, I knew that anything that went wrong between Tucker and I would probably affect them, so if we were going to do this, I needed to be sure it wasn’t going to be a complete disaster. 

I also was a bit worried about the 15 years between our previous association and our current one. Long story short, I had a conversation with Pops (bff’s Dad) and Tucker, and we decided to give it a shot. 

Well, once I agreed to this shindig, we started texting. A lot. Then we started talking on the phone. A lot. He drives at night, I work all day. This works out surprisingly well because it means we can chat from his breakfast/my Dinner until I fall asleep, then from when I wake up until I get to work. Oh boy, let me tell you- you talk to someone that much- you are either going to realize you have zero feelings for them, or you are going to fall head over heels in love.