Morningtide.nl

Most of the people who read my blog are already aware of the fact that I work with truck drivers. It’s a decent part time job that gives me some spending room, and it looks great on my resume. Most people also know that I once gave a truck driver my msn (middle aged guy, two kids, generally nice guy). I didn’t think it could hurt, but when the first thing he said to me was ’so what are you wearing’. I realized that I’d been very naive. Of course he wasn’t actually interested in a good conversation. He had but one objective, and said objective happens to reside somewhere in my pants. I decided to block him there and then.

After a 4 month break from work, I started working again 3 weeks ago. Truck driver 1 (mentioned above) behaved the same he always did, of course it didn’t come across the same way because I knew what was on his dirty, dirty mind.

Truck driver 2 takes it all to a new level though.

Keep in mind that at this point, I’d been working for 2.5 saturdays. meaning I’d seen driver 2 a grand total of 3 times. Driver 2 is a big black guy. I’d been kind to him, the way I’m usually kind to truck drivers. As in, quasi interested, as long as it means that they’ll go wherever I tell them to go.

After about 5 hours of work, driver 2 enters the office. I’m sitting there, working, together with colleague 1.

I give driver 2 his assignment

Driver 2 looks at me and says: “I have a crush on you.”

I say: *cough* *splutter* *turn bright red* Dude?! I totally don’t need to know that.

Driver 2: “But I have a crush on you.”

it then dawns on me that he isn’t messing with me. He’s serious. My colleague is trying to pick himself up from the floor, which he has been rolling on. Laughing. That bastard.

Me: “Dude, seriously, I don’t want to hear about it.”

driver 2: “Yeah, but… they’re my feelings, and I can express them, right?”

Me: “No!”

Him: “My feelings! I express them! I have a right!”

Me: “You’re not expressing them here! I don’t want to hear about it! Get the fuck out!”

Fortunately, he left. After some spluttering, of course. He bumped into another truck driver on the way out, and accused that guy of pushing him. Fortunately the other truck driver was an older man, with a blissfully hippie-esque approach to life. He calmed the (Humongous ) black guy off, and sends him on his way. I was still beet-red at that point.

Apparently driver 2 already decided I was hot after seeing me twice. Last week he asked 2 of my colleagues where I was, and if he could have my phone number.

*shudders*

I’m so not interested it’s not even funny anymore. Why the hell does this happen to me? quasi-kindness does not mean that I’m interested!