So... I'm now working in a cabinet shop, where we build cabinets for convenience stores. We make the checkout counters in some cases, along with the cabinets that they sit all the coffe and soda machines on. We build and install these, all over the state and, sometimes in Georgia and Mississippi. Welll... actually we build all of them in one shop, in Birmingham and install them all over, since building them all over would mean having to walk many miles to get a tool, but you get the idea.
One TUesday, about 3 weeks after I started here, we loaded up a truck with a set of cabinets that we were taking to install in Southern Georgia. We meant to have everything on the truck, so we could just head out first thing Wednesday morning.
Our truck, however, had other ideas. As we were doing a final check, we noted that the brake fluid was a *tad* low. In fact, it was more than a tad low. Even after we added about a quart, it was more than a *tad* low. It was at about this time that we noticed a large puddle forming, in the vicinity of the right, rear wheels. This would *tend* to indicate that our being a *tad* low on brake fluid was due to a *busted* wheel cylinder.
Not a major problem, since we have 2 of these trucks. Just had to back them butt to butt and transfer the cabinets from one to the other, then we could be on our way.
Did I mention that these trucks are 24 foot box trucks ? Did I mention that the one we were about to leave in was packed to the gills, with cabinets and tools ? Did I mention that there were only two of us to transfer this stuff from one to the other ? Did I mention it was around 30 degrees ?
Skipping ahead two hours, we've finished transferring the load to the new truck, got it all tied down and tucked in with shipping blankets, so the cabinets don't get all scratched and dinged on the way down. Then we checked the brake fluid in the second truck...
It had some !
This is good, since the entire monthly allotment of brake fluid for the state of Alabama is now slowly seeping into the concrete, over where the other truck had been sitting.
Finally, we get to leave.
We had to stop for fuel right away, since the gazillion gallon fuel tank on this thing contained little more than fumes. It was during this fuel stop that we were reminded that fuel pumps often don't like cold weather. This one was running a *tad* slow. If we'd left the truck running, it would have burned the gas faster than it was going in. 45 minutes and a mild case of frost bite later, we were on our way. Did I mention that I don't do well in cold weather ?
About 4 or 5 hours later, we are about halfway through Georgia, when we hear a noise and the truck starts shaking. Crap, we've got a flat. At least we thought that's what it was, until we saw the right front tire going on it's merry way down the highway without us. Obviously it had tired of our company and decided to strike out on an adventure of it's own.
We should have been scared, but for some reason, we just watched with a sort of disgusted amusement as it traversed the highway, jumped over the guardrail and hid in a nearby gully. The shower of sparks coming from the underside of the truck as it slid along on the road was quite pretty, though.
We were a *tad* annoyed that the truck had no steering, whatsoever. We were annoyed when it crossed the two East bound lanes. We were anxious as it crossed the turn lane. We were downright PISSED when it started crossing the oncoming West bound lanes. We were a *tad* relieved when it came to a stop on the opposite sidewalk, rather than plunging into the rather deep ditch a couple of feet away, which was about 6 feet deep.
We took the half mile hike back and located the tire, at the bottom of the gully, in the mud, in a briar patch.
Thirty minutes, two hernias and assorted scratches and lacerations later, we got the tire back to the truck. Did I mention that these are the same size tires that are on 18 wheelers ? At least it had warmed up a tad.
The good news was that we had come to rest right in front of a Chevy dealership. The truck, of course, was a ford. We called a wrecker and waited. The wrecker dropped us off at a U-Haul place, where we'd called and reserved a truck while we were waiting for the wrecker.
We followed the wrecker back to the shop and began to offload the cabinets and tools... AGAIN. During this process, I remembered that when U-Haul tells you thier truck has a 24 foot box, they are counting that 2 foot overhang that goes out over the cab. We were also reminded that the lower deck height that U-Hual brags about, means that the wheel wells protrude into the box and nothing fits into the blasted thing properly. I guess it's too much trouble to raise the box up two inches, so the wheel wells aren't right in the way ?
Much measureing, planning, pushing and pulling later, we finally forced all the cabinets into the truck. We'd formulated a backup plan, in case they didn't. We were gonna leave the damned things there and hitch hike home.
Finally we were on our way again. We panicked slightly when the check engine light came on, in the U-Haul. but the rest of the trip was uneventful.
The actual installation of the cabinets went smooth as silk, much to our surprise. Although it took all the next day. We drove the U-Haul home, getting back to the shop at around 11 PM thursday and decided to take Friday off. Good thing, since the CV axel on my car disintegrated on Friday. But that's another story.
The company truck is still in Georgia. I heard that it's been repaired, but nobody is in any hurry to go try and drive it home.
Awesome. Sarcasm rules. I can't believe no one has gone to retrieve the truck! 
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