by Tom Molnar

It's 2 a.m.. Duke knows this because his high tech illuminated digital watch with built in altimeter, thermometer, and calculator, is also set to 'beep' every fifteen minutes. And since it 'beeps' four times on the hour, Duke looks at his watch to see which hour this is.

2 a.m. Man, this is a long trip. I think I've been driving since second grade....

Duke stumbled across an article about sleep, drivers, and the mismatching of the two. It said something about circadian rhythms. About how the 2 o'clock hour, both a.m. and p.m., are times the body naturally wants to 'nod off'. Consequently, Duke always tries to be at his favorite exit ramp at 2 a.m. so he can park for his nightly snooze. And since he's established a routine, drivers who drive this route regularly are used to seeing him there. Duke figures this is all part of being cool.

However...... this morning Duke is nowhere near his favorite spot. In fact, he's on a whole different run on a completely different highway. If you ask Duke, he got screwed. Some guy with more time in at B.S. Trucking decided he wanted Duke's run - and that was that.

So the watch is beeping, Duke is nodding, and there's no exit ramp in sight. What's a Duke to do? Up to now he's been listening to talk radio. To be specific, he's been listening to Tammy Bruce, the late night bombshell broadcasting from Los Angeles' 50,000 watt flame thrower KFI, AM 640, "more stimulating talk radio". Duke, being the basically left wing liberal that he is, has been pounding his dashboard in disagreement with just about everything Tammy's been saying. Tammy, of course, tends to lean to the right politically. This has been keeping Duke awake. However, between 2 and 3 a.m. she's planning on reading from a book about Princess Diana.

Bleccch!. Who cares about that stupid broad. She's dead and that's that.

Duke slips a tape into the radio. Some more of his favorite Barry Manilow stuff. Barry starts crooning his hit "Somewhere in the Night". Very apropos. He mellows out. Tammy always inflames him with her "stupid conservative tripe", and he listens only to get his adrenaline flowing which in turn keeps him awake. But Diana is too much. So now Barry has cooled him off, relaxed him to the point where his blood pressure is down, his adrenaline shut off, he's stopped gritting his teeth, yelling back at the radio, and he's leaning back comfortably in his chair. In short, Duke is falling asleep.

Whoa!! Jeesus!

Duke 'wakes up' halfway into the left lane. He straightens out, looks in the mirror to see if he cut anyone off.

Whew!! Man, I've got to wake up.

He pulls back into the right lane, rolls down the window letting in some of the cool night air, and stops the Barry tape. He hits the 'search' button on the radio. Gotta find some loud, fast music. Duke picks up his coffee cup out of habit and puts it to his mouth. A drop of ice cold coffee runs over his lip. The cup has been empty for over an hour.

Yuck!

Duke's next habit, reaching for a fresh Black Russian, finds his fingers fishing around in his shirt pocket. Empty. Oh no! Out of coffee, out of butts .... out of luck. Now it's getting serious. Now we need a truck stop, or mini mart, or something. Duke reaches for his CB mike.

"Hey! Anybody got a copy? Anybody out there that can spare a desperate driver a smoke?"

No response.

"C'mon you guys. I know you're out there. Ya can't all be tofu eaters. I need a smoke."

Still nothing.

Damn.

Duke sees an exit sign up ahead. He squints to see better. Got to get some better glasses - someday. There's no lights in sight. Just an exit. "Doghfers Crossing", it says. It also says "No Services".

"I don't care", Duke says out loud. "I've got to get at least a little 'nappy'.

As he pulls off the big road he notices that on his right is actually a big gathering spot for other truckers who've filled a dirt lot with parked trucks. Not a one has marker lights on. Strange.

It's extremely hard to see in the dark but Duke hangs a hard right anyway and heads into the impromptu parking area. They're all backed in neatly, like a truck stop. One problem though. The place is 'full up'. Not an empty spot to be seen anywhere.

"Screw it", Duke mumbles. "You guys need sleep, I need sleep. You guys got a spot, I don't. Well, I do now."

Duke wheels his truck into the area. It's a tight squeeze to make a U-turn but he moves slowly and just barely makes it. When he pulled in, all the trucks were on his left. Now they're all on his right. Since Duke only plans on being there a short while, he decides to just park in the middle of the lot. The fact that he's now totally blocking anyone from being able to leave if they want means nothing to Duke. Hey, they're professionals too. They understand this stuff.

Duke picks up his log book to make a mark but decides to do it later. He's so tired he can't even focus on the page. He turns sideways and leans up against the drivers door, putting his feet up on the jump seat.

Ahhhh. Sweet sleep.

* * * *

The little travel alarm goes off in the England truck. Pat stretches and moans. He should have taken a job as a bank president or something. Then he'd be home - still sleeping. He sits up in the sleeper, rubbing his eyes and pushing his hair back out of his face. With his feet on the floor, he reaches up front and parts the curtain to see what the outside world looks like. Dark. Real dark. Wait. What's that? Yeah, look at that. There's a truck parked right in front of him. Some moron has parked sideways across the lot blocking Pat, and all the other dozen or so trucks from leaving.

I don't believe this, Pat thinks. Instantly he's fuming. What a way to start a day. He brushes his hair, pops a breath freshener in his mouth, puts his shoes on. He steps outside to do his, uhh, morning chores. He also wants to see who would be SO stupid as to park this way and block in the entire lot.

As he walks closer to the trailer he pulls out his mini-light and shines it on the logo. "B.S. Trucking", it says.

What an appropriate name, Pat thinks.

"Look at this crap", a voice says out of the dark, seriously startling Pat. He spins around and finds another driver standing next to him. "Can you believe this?", the driver asks. The driver is wearing a Dick Simon jacket and looks about the same as Pat feels. "I got out to take a leak and here this idiot is. How're we supposed to get out of here?"

"I dunno", says Pat, "But I do have to get going. I guess we just knock on his door and tell him to move."

The Dick Simon driver rubs his chin for a moment. "Ya know, I've got an idea. What do you think of this....?" He proceeds to tell Pat his plan. The two of them chuckle as it is unveiled.

* * * *

Fifteen minutes later the plan is ready to come together. All twelve drivers have been awakened, and enraged at the arrogance of the errant B.S. driver. Since the idea was the Dick Simon driver's brainchild, he's the one to signal the start.

He reaches up and pulls the air horn cord and the deep rumble of a twin horn set bellows loudly. At the same time he switches on his bright headlights, and his fog lights, AND his rooftop spotlight, all right in Duke's face. All twelve trucks switch on every light they have - brights, fogs, markers, spotlights, even flash lights. All the while they're blowing every horn they have as well, including the little beeper horns controlled by the button on the steering wheel. One driver who has one of those million candlepower cigarette lighter plug 'snow melter' spotlights brought it up to the truck closest to Duke's cab and plugged it in there. Then he walked up to Duke's jump seat window and put it right up against the glass. When the signal was given he switched it on. One million candle power right there in Duke's face. It was as bright as noon in the desert, right there in Duke's cab. And the noise was deafening. By now most everyone had fired up their engines and were revving to add to the noise.

* * * *

The driver in the B.S. truck leaped up! His eyes flew open, then involuntarily jammed shut. His head smashed against the window as he put his hands over his eyes, then bent over in the seat.

What the hell is going on?!?!?!?!

* * * *

Every one of the other drivers was laughing hysterically. This was well worth cutting their sleep short. It's like a dream come true to get even with a jerk like this.

Yessir, twelve drivers were going to have a good day.....