The Iron Mistress

The phone rang the other morning at 2 AM, waking me up from a sound sleep; it was my driver, Gary, “Mel, I think I just lost the front differential.”

This is not the first time I have been woken in the middle of the night, since I have owned a truck. It isn't the first time I have lost sleep, missed a birthday party for one of my Grandchildren or some other important occasion because of a truck; a truck is a very demanding Mistress.

An Iron Mistress that will give you hopes of prosperity, she will give you pleasure and then she will break your heart. She will give you pride when she is polished and shiny, after you have spent your day off pampering and cleaning her. Then she will leave you on the side of the road, because you haven’t spent enough time with her.

An Iron Mistress will cost you dearly to own and to maintain, she has a glutton’s appetite for fuel, tires and insurance.

Like all Mistress you never really own them, you are only allowed to posses them, because there is always some one waiting for you to faultier, to take her away from you.

As I sit here feeling a little remorseful at the last turn of events, thinking what a stupid way to make a living. You take two steps forward and one step back. It turns out to be less expensive than I had thought– my Mistress and I are back on the road, together again.

I, like a lot of other truckers complain a lot. It’s like a brother hood of dreamers and complainers. We dream of success in the trucking industry and then we complain when things don’t go the way we had planed. This is only expected when you live on an emotional roller coaster, you live through more highs and lows than a dope addict.

Why do we do it? Because we are dreamers, we get out on the road and we can dream as the miles go flying by with the Iron Mistress seducing us into a tranquil state of mind, our expectation rise.

If things keep on going this good, maybe I will take a holiday with the wife, like I promised. Maybe I will get a new pick-up. Maybe, maybe and then the Iron Mistress start demanding again.

I think I will quite this business and lead a normal life, at least until another Iron Mistress starts singing her siren song, seducing me into trucking again. Like the Sirens of the Sea luring sailors on to the rocks to destruction with their sweet songs.

What power, this Iron Vixen holds over us mortal fools. What a demanding, expensive and cruel lover she can be.