Friday In Virgina

Gordonsville, Virginia. It’s my mother’s birthday, and I’m stuck at a distribution center, waiting to be unloaded, wondering how, or if, the company is going to get me to Kings Mountain. I tried to feel out my dispatcher about what I might be doing after this. Naturally he popped off at me for having the temerity to ask. I asked if anything was pending, and just offered “Would be a good day for a beer load out of Williamsburg. ;-)”
He wrote back “You are so right. It is a goooooood day for a cold beer!!!!!!!! Is that what you said????? KW”
I copied that just as he wrote it. I assume with all the exclamation points and question marks, he’s telling me he can’t hear me. Neener neener and all that.
I just wrote back “Oh, don’t don’t be mean. :-P”
See, I know how all this reads to an impartial observer. So if someone were to go back and read the satcom logs, they would see me making an inquiry about loads, making a comment about Williamsburg, and my dispatcher responding in a flurry of question marks and exclamation points. Compared to what I said, his response seems a little unhinged. Quite frankly, I’d like to get more of such responses on record. In a review, I would look a lot better than he.
I sent one last message, which I consider a master stroke. “The only reason I ask is that today is my mother’s birthday. I was wondering if I was going to get to see her today.”
Pop off at me after that, ya prick.
Well, as I was writing that last sentence, he did sort of pop off at me. Yes, he’s that ignorant.
He wrote “Empty yet? And that is the info I need to know on Tuesday so I can work on getting you in the right place on Friday.”
Not an incendiary message, but a bristly one.
So I said “Dude, I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I just asked. Relax.”
Sometimes I feel like I’m dealing with a hormonal teenaged girl.

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