Yesterday I helped the soldier unstrap and un-tarp a load of… whatever it was. Roofing stuff? For those who are new or don’t know me well, I lovvve physical work so relish these opportunities.

The place we were at unloaded half the stuff while we waited in their break room drinking coffee and eating the blueberry scones my Libra ran out for. We were stupid happy as always and it is interesting how well he is treated with me there. As a rule, flat bedders are not invited inside but every time I am with him people are incredibly accommodating or at least this has been the case so far.

Half the load was meant for this one location, the rest of it was headed out of state when meant we had to re-strap and re-tarp after they’d picked off their half of the load which we did. It’s a fairly tedious job, strapping stuff to a truck so it won’t go flying. Lots of winching to do, that’s for sure. We had it all done except for this one 4X4 that had to be strapped underneath the truck.

“You have to crawl under there for just that one board?”

“Welcome to flatbed truck driving,” he said. He crawled under the truck and I crawled under it with him since this was the last thing there was to do before he left in one direction and I headed the opposite. It’s not greasy or anything (or I’d not have done it) and there is plenty of room to sit down there.

Matter of fact next time you pass a flatbed you can see what I’m talking about. About halfway back on the trailer you can see these boards stored perpendicular to the length of the trailer. There is a little triangular spot and you have to fit them in like Jenga and then strap them tight so they stay on the truck under whatever circumstances. I noticed the metal bar the boards were strapped to was mangled.

“What happened?” I asked.

“This,” he said tightening the strap. “I can’t help it,” he said. “They say you are supposed to tighten it with all your might and I don’t know what that is. All my might? I can bend steel with my might, I know that,” he shrugged. “I mean I know I can take steel and bend it.”

Libra responded by dropping her shoulder and turning her head so her hair feel back and exposed her neck. “I see.”

“Yeah, P,” he said sitting cross legged under the truck with me… sitting close the way we do. “This is why when you tell me you want a massage and you want me to push on your neck as hard as I can, I won’t do it. It’s because I know I’ll break your neck. I just don’t know what it means, all your strength and then shit like this happens,” he said indicating the bent pole.

Libra went home slobbering.