Allentown Day 3

oh Allentown Allentown Allentown.

Did you know that Allentown is the third biggest city in Pennsylvania. (after of course Philladelphia and Pittsburgh).
Philly is 1.5 million, Pittsburgh is 300,000 and Allentown is 100,000 so it is sort of a steep drop off.
Something about Allentown, it seems so miserable to me. Maybe its that billy joel song or the skinheads but in considering other cities in Pennsylvania, Scranton-Wilkes Barre Harrisburg, etc. all seem like this. They seem persistently grey, and the underlying coal, you can feel it there, even outside of a place like Centralia*, I had the thought today as I was walking back to the motel today that it seems odd that Pennsylvania hasn't collapsed in on itself fallen into the mines. Its weird they way, as I returned up "Crackersport Road"** and looked back toward the Wegman's where i had just bought some apples and sushi, it is weird how the land sort of lopes off to the not too distant horizon. Especially as it did today in the heavy grey air.
So today was different. All I had to do was wake up and then go over to the beautiful "Spruce Room" to sign in and have a meeting at which role was taken (what was the point of signing in?) and people who had been assigned trainers were told their names. I had not yet been assigned one.
back to the room. I watched tv and dicked around on the internet all day taking care of bills thinking, doing what I am doing right now I am getting paid more than I did per week at my last job. After noon I headed over to the terminal to dick around on the computers there and see if I could find anything else out.
The 12:45 van had only 3 people on it and i was talking to one, an older woman from Florida who was waiting for her truck to get fixed. I was nervous at first to strike up a conversation but, as it turns out she wanted to talk, i guess most truckers are pretty eager to talk to someone, something I don't think I appreciated last time. So we were talking, rounding the building when the driver, the same gasbag weirdo from last time chimes in.
"He derr, you're a woman and you're a mother, well i assume you are."
"yeah, I am" she responded a little annoyed. I think she was enjoying her conversation with me.
"Well tell me this" he said "I got this kid, he's not my kid but I been taking care of. He's 15 now and I been taking care of him off and on since he was like 6. and he's 15 now. Now I put a lot of time and effort into raising this kid and a lot of money too. And his mother she don't give me a cent for it."
"well" said the mom, " are you doing it for them money or because you care about him."
"oh no, i care about his guy but I would like it a lot better if I had a some more money you know I mean this kid he's got a job, a security job like the one i got down at the fair cept he don't got no gun, of course. So he's working there and I got this cable, satellite tv and he wanted it hooked up in his room at my house too and i did that, said if he wanted it he'd have to pay for part of da bill like $10 a month but his mom says shes collecting his paycheck and she'll get me the 10 bucks but she don't think she should got to because He ain't over there that much and I says dats why its only 10 bucks and he's over dere plenty enough."
We didn't have much to say to this. the mom said,
"We'll if I were the kid and had to give my check to my mom every week I wouldn't be working at all."

Once at the terminal I talked to Kathy who said I had yet to be assigned a trainer. Shit.
I sat down at the computer and completed the course on crossing the border into Canada. My phone rang. It was a guy named Jose who said in a thickish hispanic accent and over a shitty cell phone connection that he was my trainer and he was in Massachusetts now and headed down to the terminal and I should plan on meeting him around 8pm. Awesome, that was quick.
I decided that this meant I could now take a walk without worrying about missing anything and I strolled out of the terminal and down the road to Tilghman Road. On down the shoulder I went appreciating how ill fit for the act of walking suburban america is. I proceded on to the Wegman's.
I must say I was not prepared for the grandeur and oppulence of this place, especially in Allentown, and within walking distance (like 2.5 miles) of a crumby trucking part of town. Never have I seen so many cheeses from America, never such an olive bar, an olive bar so magnificent that it included other things in brine like mushrooms and peppers and was called the "Mediterranean Bar" ooh la-la.
I bought some Odwalla bars for breakfast and some granny smith apples for lunch. I bought some eel rolls and a pound of food from the de facto chinese buffet up front. my god.
I ate my chinese-ish food which, as it turns out, was not particularly good at the charming tables set up on the side of the building. I walked on up past suburbia to Crackersport road and back to the motel.
There I called my SDM (Student Driver Manager) to touch base before I talked to Jose again. On the line there was hesitation. "Let me look at something here, what's your driver number............Mark, you still there, looks like we had you with Jose but then we pulled you off, he was looking for a bilingual student." I can speak espanol un poquito, eh? "Hang in there though, we'll get you hooked up with a trainer asap."
Fuck, that sucks.
I watched some more tv and typed the beginning of this and then headed down to catch the Target (/applebee's) van. While looking at satellite radios my phone rang, it was Jose he was nearing Allentown and asked if I wanted to head out tomorrow or perhaps tonight. I told him about my conversation with the SDM and he said, "lemme check my messages and I'll call you back senor." (he probably did not say senor)
I was browsing the clearance pants when he called back. "Look, they said if you are ready to go they can switch so you wanna go tonight or stay in the motel one more night?"
I'll stay in the motel I told him.
I called the SDM to confirm and got a very intense guy on the phone. Maybe hooked in seriously to the Omaha meth circuit.
"Yeah Jose he is intense but he's got milage stacked on his screen. The last guy didn't like him cause he yelled a lot but that guy didn't know what he was doing looks like you got some experience should be great and he's got the miles stacked up on him I mean other trainers got 3-400 miles but Jose just looking at his first screen he's got 3000 right there you'll get those 105 hours done in no time."
Fantastic I said. Sign me up.
I bought some pants and a pair of shirts. and a thermous mug.
Outside i crouched against the cement block of the beautiful Target with many of the others waiting for the van. One new orientee, a short plump african american woman was on the phone. It quickly became clear that her boyfriend was on the other end.
"Don't get all in my face just cause I didn't pick up my phone."
Her volume grew.
"Don't get in my motherfucking face about this shit. everytime you don't pick up your fuckin phone I don't freak the fuck out."
She didn't care that there were about 15 people within 15 feet, some of them sitting right next to her.
"That's right bitch, this shit is sad, its just sad. you need to trust my ass just like i trust yo ass. when I hear women in the background of your calls i don't freak the fuck out. chill. these are the fuckers I'm working with nigga. That's my goddman job."
The conversation continued once we had boarded the van but the volume and attitude had softened considerably.
Back at the motel we devanned and i headed down to the lobby to check the shuttle times for the morning, it being saturday. The air was so heavy.
The air conditioning feels so good.


Footnotes
*Centralia is a town in central Pennsylvania underneath which a seam of coal is burning and has been for about 40 years. The town still bizarrely enough has a population of 7 despite the fact that some roads are permently damaged smoke issues forth from fissures in the ground and, in places, the ground is warm to the touch. The seam is apparently big enough to continue burning for the next 250 years and there is no effort to keep it from doing so.
(information from the magnificent Wikipedia)

**Crackersport. I love this name. Is ita sport based some how on crackers or is it a port into which southern whites are shipped?