Why Fuck Around?

Charleston, South Carolina. Just finished re-stacking a skid of Aquafina water that had collapsed because the driver who picked up the load didn’t secure it with a load bar. Naturally the customer couldn’t be bothered to do it.
The dock hand that I talked to told me “You got a long day ahead of you.” I told I him didn’t have long days. I re-stacked that skid in about 15 minutes, which shocked the dock hand. He said “Damn, driver. Most people take an hour, hour and a half.” Why fuck around, right? I’d rather get it done quick and get back to my air conditioned truck than stand in that scorching hot trailer for an hour or more, bitching about my lot in life.
Of course, I feel a few twinges here and there, so later I might regret being so gung-ho. But I’ll burn that bridge once I cross it.
I’m just glad this happened before I got my shower. I would have been ill as a hornet if I’d wasted a shower.

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