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Sometimes, I feel sorry for my customers.
Normally, when I can't do a job, it's because of the customer not measuring their space, or not remembering that we need a gate code, or something similar on their end. Honestly, we want to do our jobs - if for no other reason than not being able to do a drop or pick up can really screw up our day. So when I can't do a job and its nobody's fault, i really feel sorry for the customer.
Remember the guy I signed Ground Forces for the other day? Today, I went back over the hill to pick up his loaded pod and bring it to the warehouse.
Now his place basically sits on a large grassy lot. No real driveway. The house is well back from the street, about forty feet or so, and at the same distance is a fence and gate that leads to a second yard. This is where I sat the pod down. A simple, straight back in, made dicey only by the size of the gate, but since I was the guy who dropped it, I knew exactly how I was going to approach the pick-up.
I get there, greet the customer (the original guy's girlfriend), and get into position and back up. About six feet from the gate, my rear wheels just start spinning. I get out, and discover that last week's storm had completely saturated the ground. All I'm doing is digging holes in a mixture of soggy grass and mud. I try again, coming in at a slight angle to avoid old ruts (a trick I learned in the Army) but no luck. I'm still spinning my wheels and going nowhere but down. I pull forward and think. Empty, I weight about 5.5 tons. That weight is causing me to sink into the mud. This is a full pod, going to Washington state with most of these nice folk's furniture. It probably weighs close to 6 tons, all told. What will happen when my truck weighs in at close to 12 tons?
Images of the La Brea Tar Pits came to mind. "Here we see a remarkedly preserved Harvester truck and driver, located in the Santa Cruz area..."
I apologize to the customer, and explain that they need to either let the ground dry thoroughly, or put down some sort of support over a 30 foot length. Wood, gravel, even a thick layer of hay might allow me to get in and out.
It really bufgged me, not being able to do that job. Not only because they were cool gamer-folk, and not because I wasted almost 90 minutes driving back and forth over those damn mountains, but not being able to do a job is an insult to my professional pride. If I can do a drop in pitch darkness on a narrow road during a howling rainstorm, I should have been able to do this, physics be damned.
Remember the guy I signed Ground Forces for the other day? Today, I went back over the hill to pick up his loaded pod and bring it to the warehouse.
Now his place basically sits on a large grassy lot. No real driveway. The house is well back from the street, about forty feet or so, and at the same distance is a fence and gate that leads to a second yard. This is where I sat the pod down. A simple, straight back in, made dicey only by the size of the gate, but since I was the guy who dropped it, I knew exactly how I was going to approach the pick-up.
I get there, greet the customer (the original guy's girlfriend), and get into position and back up. About six feet from the gate, my rear wheels just start spinning. I get out, and discover that last week's storm had completely saturated the ground. All I'm doing is digging holes in a mixture of soggy grass and mud. I try again, coming in at a slight angle to avoid old ruts (a trick I learned in the Army) but no luck. I'm still spinning my wheels and going nowhere but down. I pull forward and think. Empty, I weight about 5.5 tons. That weight is causing me to sink into the mud. This is a full pod, going to Washington state with most of these nice folk's furniture. It probably weighs close to 6 tons, all told. What will happen when my truck weighs in at close to 12 tons?
Images of the La Brea Tar Pits came to mind. "Here we see a remarkedly preserved Harvester truck and driver, located in the Santa Cruz area..."
I apologize to the customer, and explain that they need to either let the ground dry thoroughly, or put down some sort of support over a 30 foot length. Wood, gravel, even a thick layer of hay might allow me to get in and out.
It really bufgged me, not being able to do that job. Not only because they were cool gamer-folk, and not because I wasted almost 90 minutes driving back and forth over those damn mountains, but not being able to do a job is an insult to my professional pride. If I can do a drop in pitch darkness on a narrow road during a howling rainstorm, I should have been able to do this, physics be damned.