Go Home Yankee

Back in 1985-86 I was driving OTR and was heading East across Texas heading for the Carolina coast and decided to stop at a TA truck stop for the week-end it being early Friday evening, so we {my wife was riding along at the time} pull in and get a good parking spot. After taking showers and filling our bellies we figured why not hit the package store and grab some beer and Southern Comfort to party on.

A couple of hours later founds us in a circle of around ten people, all partying and we even had some pallets we broke up to burn. This was all in the TA truck stop parking lot on Friday night just outside Dallas! Try that today!

Any way, everybody was catching a pretty good buzz and having fun when this little peckerwood, {I bet he didn’t dress out at a buck twenty at the most} starts giving me static about being a Yankee, now here I am trying to have fun but also catching a good buzz and not wanting to take any shit from anyone.

The guy won’t give up and soon his brother is mouthing off. Now back then I was in my mid-late twenties & prime at 6’3″ and around 230, I humped my own fright instead of hiring “Lumpers” to do it and rode bikes when not in the truck. I had a “Don’t take shit attitude” and the experience to back it up.

So I keep laughing and joking with everyone else and tried to ignore him but he just wanted to fight. Liquid courage at it’s finest. He gets up and crosses towards me so I stand up and he starts swinging. I just kept taking steps backwards and avoiding all his punches and this just made him angrier.

His last punch glanced off my shoulder as I turned out of the way but my elbow hit the corner of a trailer and got cut open. “MF’er that’s my blood!” was the last thing spoken as I hammered him straight in the nose. Down he went and as I look at my elbow I see two truck drivers behind me laughing their asses off.

I turn back and start after the guy laying there and all I hear is him crying and begging for me to quit. one punch, it cracked me up. I return to the circle and his brother is gone and everybody else is having a blast. This little shit comes back to the party { guts, I’ll give him that} and apologizes. Then he confesses to us that he is from Ohio, I’m ready to tear him up again for that sh*t, damn Mayflower driving peckerwood.

I ended up partying until the sun came up and slept for a couple of hours before we left for a different place to spend the week-end. I stop for fuel after a couple hundred miles and as my half drunk hungover ass is walking out to my truck this Mexican walks over to me and says” Hey, weren’t you the guy who kicked someone’s ass last night in Mesquite?”

We travelled together until later that night when I entered the scales east of Memphis TN. and…

Finished in upcoming post “On the Scales”

Happy Trails,

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