So today I’m at work making mountains of snow, same ole same ole in other words. As I was moving a bucketful, from the parking stall that was still half buried due to a mound of snow that had previously covered the whole parking lot, now occupies a corner; I receive a phone call, I stop the vehicle, and quickly answer. In the brief glimpse at the screen I had taken, before answering i noticed that it was from my boss. boss “I need you to do a move. Take two cases from USR, to Mitchel.” I respond “yeah, I’m in the skid, bucketing. i’ll go get my truck and i’ll be right there.
I quickly retrieve my truck, 1722, the most beat up truck we have. Well thats not really fair as up until 6 months ago it was tied for third newest. It, a 2001, GMC SIERRA 2500, i knew the thing had a v-8 but wasn’t sure how big; thing was a fucking monster truck, full size 4×4, with a 7 foot plow, on the front and a salter that held 650 pounds of salt on the back. The doors, and rear quarter panels, were all lightly dented, with assorted other colors of paint ground in. The rear bumper was torn in a few places, and bent back into shape, on top of having enough dents to make it look like a dog’s chew toy. Yep, my baby 8 hours a day at work. I get in, a kinda hoping sitting motion, hop sideways, and sit down at the say time, with a bit of climb with the steering wheel thrown in for fun. As i pull out of my parking spot, i notice, 1722’s sister truck, 1721, same truck, cept the stuff inside is all mounted in different places; the seats chewed up; the bed’s much rustier than mine, and the plow is bent to hell. As opposed to my plow which was still straight along the top. I arrive at USR, and park near the doors that lead to the storage areas on the lower level. I walk to the main entrance, through the lobby, and into the office area to find my boss. After brief Greetings, he shuffles papers and find an order, “yeah, two cases to Mitchell, b95.”
We return to the office area, and approach the Dispatchers desk, though randy is nowhere to be seen. In his place sits a cute blonde in a blue bloss, working on something. “we just need the cage key.” Says my boss. Looking quite flustered, the cute blonde explains that she doesn’t know where it is, and leaves to get Randy. My boss calmly walks behind the desk and checks the key box, discovering it locked, he waits for Randy.
The blonde returns with Randy, who looks his normal self, he greets us politely and retrieves the key. We thank him, and go to the storage area to find the cases, in the appropriate cage. My boss opens the cage and indicates two cases roughly 4 foot long by 1.5 feet tall, black, nylon bags, heavy duty, the things are atleast a foot wide two, and contain some sort of framework, at least i guessed that from the feel of the bags. As i lug the first bag towards the doors, my boss asks, “where’s your truck?” “Just outside the loading doors, cause i knew I’d be getting the bags from here.” “Thanks, Fernando’s swamped upstairs” he says as he walks back to his office. “Hey, Its not the worst thing you’ve ever asked me to do.” “eh, lets not get into that right now” comments my boss, as we both leave the room.
I load the bags one at a time into the back of the truck, i’ve got a number of black plastic bags in the back, filled with “garbage”. I’ll have to dispose of those later, this first though; I’ve already got the stuff in my truck, better get rid of it as quickly as possible. As a i drive to my destination, i’ve got a moment, as USR is one of the more distant places we operate out of, I hear the radio speak. I quickly turn down the stereo to better hear, might be trouble. “One Eighteen to One Fourteen.” A moment later : “One Eighteen to One Fourteen.” Again i wait, and no reply. At this point i pick up the microphone, from the dash, for my radio. “He was just in his office, He’s probably still there if that helps”, I respond. “Nah” he say: “I was just gonna tell him, that i need to pull out the bigger stuff to handle this the Raheem job.”
I drive to my destination and pull in the back lot. I park the truck in a reserved spot, lucky i don’t get parking tickets on our properties. I grab the first bag, things are dto damn heavy to lug two at a time. I adjust the shoulder strap the thing has, obviously someone thought ahead. I leave the other bag in the back, confident that no one would be dumb enough to steal out of the back of my truck, especially when its filled with black plastic bags apparently full of “garbage” i love people.
i take the side door by the loading dock into the basements levels. i walk down the line of neatly number rooms, B15. Well i’ve got a bit must be the other side of the building. I walk to the far end of the place, rows of doors, watching me as a i walk. I pass through a fire door, left open for convenience i assume. I find my room, open the door, and knock on a nearby counter. “yeah” speaks a male voice from the far end of the room. Moments later a middle-aged man in a a suit with no jacket, approaches me from the recesses of the room, hidden by ominous partitioning. “I’ve got two cases for you” “I’ll go get the other one.” “Oh’ thank you”, states the man in a sincere enough sounding voice. I lugged the other one, from the truck, back to the room, the man had disappeared by this point, back to whence he came i assumed. I spotted the first bag on the ground, behind the nearest desk, invisible from anyone entering from the door. I place the second bag next to the first, and grunt with relieve from the weight of the thing.
As i approach my truck, having gone through a different door, i spot one of the “Checkers”, the big black one that’s been working here the longest of that group. “yeah I took care of those “meters” for ya, if you have anymore more problems, let me know I’ll fix it.” “the ones in lot 6?” She asks. “Yeah” i respond.
At this point, i get back in my truck, and drive off. Yay back to work, i’ll get rid of the “garbage after lunch.
me: doesn’t that so sound like a shadowrun: get package and deliver to other buidling, its so out of the genesis shadowrun game, lol.