Epes Fucked Me Over

Epes fucked me over, but good. I got to the Greensboro terminal, after spending four hours at the shipper (on a Friday), expecting to switch trucks and go the hell home. Well, Marvin sends me a message and tells me that I have to drop my trailer because I can’t take a haz-mat load home with me. They’ll have to find me something else. At that point, I was automatically mad. I spent four hours at shipper only to drive 15 miles and then drop the load?
Then they gave me a load that picks up on Saturday. At that point I could feel veins popping out on my forehead. I told them that I hadn’t volunteered to work the weekend. Some snert wrote me back and said “you won’t be working the weekend. You’ll be picking up a load to take home with you.” I explained to them that if I was picking up a load on Saturday evening that delivers at 06:00 on Monday morning just fifteen miles form the Florida border, I would have to leave Sunday afternoon or early evening. If I worked Friday, I worked Saturday, I worked Sunday, and I delivered on Monday, how in the world did they get that I wouldn’t be working the weekend?
After all was said and done, I didn’t get out of the terminal until almost 18:00. I probably won’t get home until around 21:00. And I’m sure I’ll fume all the way home.

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