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HGV driver Lucy Radley ponders the 'interesting' attitude to the law displayed by some of her fellow drivers

19th March 2009, Page 10
19th March 2009
Page 10
Page 10, 19th March 2009 — HGV driver Lucy Radley ponders the 'interesting' attitude to the law displayed by some of her fellow drivers
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"What time are you leaving in the morning?" I innocently asked the driver of the truck parked opposite in my favourite overnight hidey-hole the other evening. (I'm not the type to block in others if I can help it.) "In the morning?" said the chunky, jewellerywearing occupant as he peered out around his curtain tassles. "You must be joking! I work for Nameless Transport, were the best paid in the area! I've to tip out at Tesco at 22:00. I started at five this morning. I'm just having a snack before I put another card in. I earn £800 to £900 a week, you know. There's people will tell you they wouldn't touch my gaffer with a bargepole, but they just ain't up to it. Like some of the drivers on here, they won't run bent so they get stuck on days earning £500 a week. I'm a day and night man, me."

"OK. Right. Well, I'll leave you to it then..."

"I tell them, I do, you wanna waste time that's down to you."

"I lost a good friend to running bent. He was only 43, left a wife and three kids behind. Got flu one Tuesday, was dead from pneumonia by the following Monday his body was too worn out to fight it. You have to ask yourself whether it's worth it, don't you?"

'That's why I have holidays. I had three days off last year. I've got six 0-licences, you know.'

"Er... right. Bye then. Some of us need to do that sleeping thing, what with not wanting to die and all that."

"Well that's up to you..."

After pulling my curtains and firmly locking the doors against marauding prats, I checked my tacho. Yep, definitely 2009, not 1982.

Then I started to worry. Not about his spectacular disregard for life, limb and the law (I didn't believe a word of the rubbish he'd spouted, although he did indeed vanish an hour later). It was more the mentality of thinking it was a good idea to boast about this stuff.

The sad thing is, he's by no means alone, yet we still wonder why we all end up parking in grotty fly-tipped lay-bys because no-one wants us anywhere near civilisation. Maybe it's something to do with our image?

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