I gotta make some miles here, or my fucking asshole of a dispatcher's gonna have my balls for bookends. Talk to ya tonight." I hung up before he could...add any more unwelcome news. A California hot-shot run usually paid good money, but not enough to keep me away from Linda any longer than absolutely necessary. John was probably wondering about the little sanity I still had left, right about now.The trip down to Seattle and back to Richmond was spectacularly uneventful. Traffic was light, the. I dressed in slacks and a long-sleeve shirt, and strolled down to a new bar that opened up not far from my house. I hoped I could down a few drinks and forget about the fact that my wife still had a week to go. Maybe watch a game on the bar's tv's. When I got I there the place was pretty full but it was populated with a lot of black guys which I didn't expect. A lot of them were staring at me like I shouldn't be there but no one bothered me. I was relieved because I was not exactly a big guy at. More

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