The Concrete Truck

It'll buff.

Vick hadn’t been driving the concrete mixing truck long so he wasn’t familiar with some of the ins and outs of driving such a beast. For instance, he knew that the stopping distance was greater in his truck than in most trucks, load or no load. Of course, the heavier it was, the greater the stopping distance. He never followed close behind someone on the highway at speed and his foot hovered over the brake pedal in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

He and Tony had just completed their third load at the new mall parking lot and had two more loads to pick up and deliver before the day ended.

Vick avoided the highway because of the speeds and the self-absorbed drivers. Plus, he didn’t need to go on the highway to get to the concrete plant. He knew there were crazies on the highway but forgot about the lil’ crazies who took the back roads and were just as crazy, but at slower speeds with fewer cars.

Such a car pulled out in front of him 50 feet ahead. Vick slammed on the brakes, stopping inches short of ramming a large electric vehicle. Thick cement mix oozed onto the EV’s windshield and then onto the hood, popping one and then two of the tires with the added weight.

“I thought you cleared that chute.” Vick said as the concrete continued to load the car down, popping the remaining two tires.

“How about that! I thought I did too.”

“Clearly his fault though,” said Vick as he opened the door.

“True, but I’m thinking we won’t make our next two loads, am I right?”

“Pfft. Yeah, I think you’re right,” Vick said. “We may even be home late for supper with this one.”

Tony said, “I hear sirens already. I’ll get the recording off the dash cam. Go ahead and have a word with him, that is, if he can open his door.”

“Roger that. If he’s lucky, it’ll buff right out.”

“Funny.”

“Eh, probably not. He’ll be lucky to get the mix off before it hardens,” said Vick.