|What it Takes to be a Real Trucker
Author: Writing In Crayon PM
Margo Satchel is the new trucker at Shortland Truckers, and the only female there. At her old trucking company she was discriminated against and never allowed to drive. Does she have what it takes to be a real trucker?Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Suspense - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,603 - Updated: 03-19-12 - Published: 03-05-12 - id: 3002788
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
When she exited the office, Margo walked back out to her truck and opened the door (she left it unlocked) and swung her briefcase up into the passenger seat. She climbed up and reached for a tissue from her Laotion tissue box. She'd been having a very runny nose lately and was very thankful it could wait until after her interview.
"S-so did you get the job, M-Ma'am?" Spits asked her from behind, trying not to laugh.
The blonde snatched the nose napkin from the box and pressed it to her nose and mouth like a surgeon's mask, and then peered over her own shoulder and nodded to them.
"O-Oh.." Spits said, a bit shocked, and slightly disappointed.
Margo turned back to her truck and blew her nose into the soft tissue before she placed it into a plastic groccery bag with the others.
"Well.. We might aswell show you around." Gas Gage offered, scratching the back of his head.
Margo climbed out of her truck and slammed the door behind her. "Okay."
"Well," Gas Gage pointed to a large, dark blue truck (the same color as Margo's) parked behind her own. "That there is Road Rage's truck. I think he's sleeping in it right now... And over there are Spits and me's trucks." He pointed to a red and green truck parked farther away. "But everyone else is at or going to Shanzelle's for Happy Hour. ..You wanna come?"
Margo smiled. "I think I might like that."
"Well, c'mon, we can ride down there in a convoy." Gas Gage suggested as he and Spits began walking towards their trucks. Margo turned and boarded her own vehicle, starting it up. She waited for Gas Gage and spits, even though it took them an entire sixty seconds, considering how slow they were walking.
Gas Gage beeped and pulled out onto the road. Spits pulled up close to the side but beeped for her to go first so they didn't lose her. That or they both wanted to observe how bad she was at driving.
Margo pulled out onto the road with Spits close behind. She exhilirated to catch up with G.G., though.
Shanzelle's was only a five minutes drive away. Gas Gage and Spits beeped as they pulled into the relatively small parking lot. "I don't think there's enough room, Margo!" Gas Gage called out his window.
"Okay!" As soon as G.G. had parked his semi, Margo drove out through the other end and parked in the large parking lot of the plaza next door.
So, why, do the truckers park their huge trucks in the small bar driveway?
Because they can.
Margo looked into the rearview mirror and fluffed her hair. She then noticed that Spits' car was parked in an empty space a few yards away from Gas Gage's.
"Didn't notice it, or just don't like me?" Margo asked.
She then grabbed her purse out from under her passenger seat and climbed out of her truck, walking to meet them as Gas Gage waved.
"Welcome to Shanzelle's." Gas Gage held the door wide open. Two giggling girls walked near the enterance and G.G. held it opened while winking to them.
Still holding it open, Margo began to walk into the door he held open, only for Gas Gage to push her aside. "Oof!" She said as Spits did it, too.
Frustrated, Margo opened the door herself and walked in.
There were a few half-circles bars lined up side-by-side for different groups of people. The smallest one, which was infront of her, read "Shanzelle's" in big, neon, italic letters with the picture of a woman serving drinks next to it, just like outside. The one on its right read "Ladies'". She watched the two girls from earlier sit down on the bar stools as a woman bartender came to serve them.
There were a few others down the left, which she did not care for. She kept walking until she reached the end.
"Truckers'" it read.
The only available bar stool was one between two huge men. Reluctantly, Margo climbed up onto the stool.
"WOOOAH.." The men put their arms up. "This is for truckers only!"
Spits leaned forward, seats down the row. "She is a trucker! She's Shortland's new employee!" He cried in an amused tone.
Laughs burst out from the row of truckers. "Geh back to the Ladies' counter." The one on her left point his thumb.
Margo sighed and lifted up her purse. As she began to walk away, she felt one of them smack her on the butt.
She growled and turned around, lifting her purse high above her head to send it crashing down on the nearest trucker's head.
"Such disrespect!" Margo stopped and turned to see a woman dressed in green and purple colors. She walked up to the truckers. "Don't you know that you could get sued for sexual harassment?"
The truckers looked awe-stricken.
"Come on, Love. You deserve better than that." She linked arms with Margo and marched her down to the exclusive Shanzelle's counter.
"I'm sorry they did that to you, Miss.."
"Margo Satchel." She informed the woman.
"Miss Satchel. Sometimes I do feel like I should close this place down." She crossed one leg over the other.
"You mean you're.."
"That's right, I'm Shanzelle. Do you know why those men did that to you?"
Margo shrugged. "I guess because I'm new down at Shortland."
"Shortland? Are you Mr. James' new secratary?"
"No, I'm his new trucker. I'm from Nevada."
"Nevada! I always wanted to go there."
"Well, whatever you do, don't go to Fahzner's. It's a trucking company full of nasty men who don't have the slightest respect for women." Margo sighed. "And to think I thought things would be different here."
"Oh! I'm sorry, honey. But you must look on the bright side. If you can't keep your job at Shortland, you're very welcome to come work here at my bar."
Margo smiled. "Thank you, Shanzelle."
"I think you and I can get to be very good friends, Margo." The owner of the bar motioned for the bartender to bring two of her specials.
"I do, too, Shanzelle. I do, too."