Almost every seat in the orientation room, all twenty-five of them, was filled with the butts of fresh, new drivers. Phil Haggard was the orientation spokesman for the day; a man of middle age, balding, a cold, unexciting stare, and a total disregard for the feelings of others. Phil knew the roads and the kind of wear and tear they can impose on a person both physically and mentally. This mental exshaustion from dealing with the horrors, nuisances, and just plain boredom while treading the roads of America, was heard clearly in his unenthusiastic, monotonous tone of voice, as well as the obvious lack of interest in any of the material being presented. What he cared the least about, was the individuality of each new driver. In other words, Phil has lost all his ability to give a fuck about almost anything, especially if it had anything to do with people.
"Hello, uh, welcome, my name is Phil…uhm, I've been an over-the-road driver for nearly thirty years so I do know what I'm talking about. Throughout this orientation, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. Before we begin, I'd like you all to keep your cellphones and other devices put away. Also, please do not think you know more about trucking than I do, you do not."
The only ones to really care about asking any questions on the material were the absolute, brand new drivers in the trucking industry which made a small fraction of the drivers who attended this class. Most of the experienced drivers could care less about the material and would much rather just get the hell into a truck and start making money right away because, for some of them, this was probably their third or fourth orientation within the last three years.
"Now there's a bunch of particular attributes in a person that a great company like us look for in a driver", Phil conitinues, " these things are what make a great, intelligent, reliable, and professional driver that we cherish in our company."
As Phil went on, at the same time, a very late Andrew Dillon hurries from out of the sliding door of a shuttle bus and to the doors of the Just Git There Trucking company terminal where his orientation was already underway. Andrew bursts through the doors and runs up to the reception counter where the receptionist scribbled things down with a look of being in a grumpy mood.
"Hey! I'm looking for... the orientation…room", Andrew forces out the words through heaps of breath. The receptionist hardly looked up at Andrew but points with the end of her pencil to a sign on the wall behind him. The sign pointed down the hall and clearly read: Orientation Room, in big, bold letters.
"Thanks!", Andrew continues to run down the hall.
"No running!", the receptionist yells after him, slowing him down to an awkward power walk. Andrew was never known for his punctuality, but about now he was kicking his own ass in his head for being late to his very first truck driving job, or rather, his first career. What a first impression to make on your very first career.
Phil was in the middle of his speech when Andrew poked his head around the door-less doorway, the backs of all the drivers facing him which was a relief.
"What makes a great driver is not being distracted, no excuses, not being late-", Just then, Phil catches Andrew trying to sneak into the room. Phil wore glasses, the old school, large, square shaped ones made popular in the seventies, but he could still see someone sneaking through a doorway directly in front of him, even if they thought he couldn't. And what he saw was a bad example of being late, and ironically, just in time.
"Well, speaking of being late, an example just walked in. How are you?", Phil says. Everyone in the class turns to look at Andrew whose embarrassment froze him in the act of pulling out a chair.
"Uh…i'm good. I just uhh…I woke up on time but there wasn't any room in the shuttle so-"
"Take a good look everyone, he's giving us two great examples on how to not be a professional driver", the class chuckles at Phil's remark, "I hope you clean up your act soon. Anyway, moving on. When you're out on the road, shit tends to happen. So you're gonna want to be able to contact certain people to help you. We'll get to them in a bit, first let's make sure everyone brought what they were told to bring several times before orientation."
The room was filled with the sound of rustling bags and the opening of binders and folders, but what couldn't be heard was the cussing fit Andrew was having in his head as he realized that he had forgotten nearly everything he was supposed to bring.
The only thing Andrew had on his person at the moment was his CDL and Social Security Card. Andrew buries his face in his hands and tried his best not to yell and lash out like an angry minotaur. He could've sworn he had brought those documents because he can remember leaving the hotel room with the folder that contained them, but what happened to the folder after that is unknown. Andrew hated when things just vanished without a trace, and he became even more infuriated when he finds himself with zero recollection of any of the steps leading up to the missing items whereabouts. All he knew for sure was that he had the folder in his hand at one point in time. I guess being excited about a new job could lead to making mistakes such as forgetting very important documents crucial for your employment. Or maybe Andrew isn't quite yet cut out for the responsibilities of being a professional truck driver…
As Phil walked down the middle of the room between each row of long tables collecting everyone's documents, Andrew quietly hoped that having his CDL and Social would be enough for now and that Phil would be nice enough to postpone the need for the rest of the documents until later. Andrew was a very hopeful soul indeed. Even if Phil had found it in his rock that sat in the place of a human heart to consider such, the fact that Andrew had forgotten those forms at all showed unreliability on top of being late and making excuses, which didn't reflect good on Phil's seventies glasses at all.
When Phil was finally towering over Andrew's table, he could feel the mans cold eye's beaming down on him from behind those glasses.
"Where's the rest of your documents?", Phil asks, grabbing the CDL card and the social security card.
"Uh, I was so excited and in a hurry to get here that I must've forgot them back at the hotel or something. I could run back over there and get-"
"Boy almighty! Do you wanna run back there and grab your brain too while you're at it!", Phil shouts, "first day and you're late AND all you bring is the skin on your ass! Who is the recruiter that considered you to be hired because I would like to have a word with that idiot and why in the hell they would-" Phil is interrupted by a knock on the wall by the doorway, "can I help you?"
It was the shuttle driver, a goblin race male who still carried the same stench that had everyone covering their noses the entire ride from the hotel.
"I think one of your drivers forgot something in my bus", the goblin holds up Andrew's folder full of documents. It sparkled with relief.
"My folder!", Andrew says excitedly as he retrieves it from the stinky shuttle driver, "thanks so much!"
The goblin grunts and mumbles out of view, taking his odor with him. Andrew hands the folder to Phil who takes it with a raised eyebrow. It was very uncommon, or rather unusual for a goblin to behave in such a way as they were apathetic to humans.
"I've never seen that before in my life", Phil says, "looks like someone has a bit of luck on their side…" Phil walks away to collect the rest of the documents, leaving Andrew to sigh with relief but he still needed to make up for his bad first impression. Orientation wasn't over yet.