The company I worked for had one man working in dispatch no one could get along with. Me and him got into words one night over some mechanical problems I was trying to solve {head light relay}. He kept pushing and I'd been sitting all weekend after watching a promised load pull of the yard as I was pulling in. I told him the keys were at the fuel desk of the truck stop and caught a Dog home.
I sat for about 3 days after having been promised a load for over 1400 miles. I finally got a load for 200 miles and that couldn’t be unloaded until the next day. I called and told them that would be my last load.
You were a machinist’s mate on the America?