by Tom Molnar

After hanging around the dispatch for almost an hour, Duke is complaining to anyone who will listen. He's been outside to light up one of his Black Russians several times. The new No Smoking policy is killing him. Not an ashtray in sight. Why, it's inhuman.... And a man shouldn't have to wait this long for a dispatch.

Meantime, Sonny is sitting quietly at another table reading a book. It annoys him that Duke will not shut up, but it is Duke and everyone has pretty much learned to put up with him. Eventually he goes away. It is said that some guys even put ear plugs in if they are around him long enough.

Duke and Sonny get their paperwork about the same time. Sonny's got a 53 footer, Duke a set of doubles.

"Oh no, not doubles again", Duke laments. "Man, I got too much seniority for this stuff. Give this to one of them new guys. I hate pulling these joints. They're dangerous. A man could get killed pulling these things. There ought to be a law against it."

Duke sticks his head in the dispatch window and continues on, as he waves the papers back and forth.

"You desk jockeys got no clue what it's like to have to break up a set of these things and make a delivery. Break up, hook up, break up, hook up. It never ends."

He looks across the dispatch office and sees that no one is looking his way.

"How many of you guys have even driven a pie wagon, let alone a real truck!?", Duke chides. "I pulled doubles last week. It's time for someone else to do it. I've got too much seniority for this crap. C'mon, let's get with the program here."

Bob, one of the dispatchers in the office, finally looks up at Duke.

"Duke, we don't owe you any explanation at all, but in the hopes that you'll just go away and leave us in peace, let me say that out of 38 dispatches tonight, 36 have been doubles. And who ever said seniority had anything to do with it anyway? Now please, just go, and leave us in peace. We've still got a lot of freight to move."

Duke stands there staring at Bob. He slowly backs out of the window, stands up straight, looks around to see if anyone else is in the room, and slowly heads for the door. Sonny had left with his paperwork as soon as he got it so Duke is alone. He is still mumbling about seniority as he shuffles out, seemingly enjoying the sound of his own voice.

* * * * *

Outside, Sonny is walking around his unit, checking to see that he had the right trailer and doing the cursory pre-trip inspection. Not a real detail check, but making sure all the tires have air, all the marker lights are working, checking turn signals and brake lights, and listening for air leaks. He checks the oil in the engine and looks for obvious fluid leaks. Having satisfied himself that all is in order, he climbs in, draws a line in his log book, and is on his way, happy to have avoided any further contact with Duke.

* * * * *

On his way out, Duke passes the janitor coming in for his nightly chores.

"Hi Duke!, he says foolishly. "How's it going tonight?"

"Aw #&^#@!!. Look at this crap. They gave me doubles again tonight. ^%#$ #@~%^!! You know I've got too much 'time in' to be doing this ##@%. Who the hell do they think they are!"

The janitor picks up his pace, quickly ducking into the bathroom.

"You're right Duke. Go get 'em."

He decides he's never going to ask Duke another question - ever.

As Duke approaches his truck, pre-hooked by the yard hostlers who leave it with the parking lights on, he accidentally notices a marker light out on the right front corner of the trailer. Who cares. He jumps into the cab, throws the paperwork on the jump seat, puts the transmission in gear, and begins to drive away. About twenty feet later he stops and sets the brake. He's forgotten to start today's page in the log book. He enters the tractor and trailer numbers from his paperwork, then gets really upset because he has to get out and go back to find the dolly number. How he hates doubles! Anyone within a few yards would have had to listen to Duke mumble on to himself about doubles, how dangerous they are, and how he had too much seniority to mess with these %$#@# things.

Satisfied he is legal, he puts the truck in gear, heads out the gate towards the freeway and another night of high adventure on the road.

"The Duke is entering the freeway easterly bound", he announces on the CB to no one in particular.