My name is Brad and I’m a trucker. Sometimes people find it amusing to change that word but they only do it once. I’ve done this job for 17 years, travelling the roads five to six days a week and knocking up 70-80 hours. I often sleep in my cab at various service stations around the country and I am sometimes knocked awake by the ten a penny, eastern European prostitutes looking to bag a few quid. When I say ten a penny, that’s not far off the mark as you can get a gobble for a fiver which is cheaper than a fry up at the greasy spoon.

The perks of my job? Summer time. What you birds don’t realise is that the angle from my truck window into your car is perfect for looking down your flimsy top and in between your legs when your skirts get higher. Plenty of material for the wank bank. The exhibitionists are amusing too and there’s more of them on the road than you might realise. There used to be a bird who drove a BMW up and down the A5 at night time. I’d clock her in my truck mirror creeping up the side of me until she was level. She’d stay beside the cab for twenty seconds, flashing her stockings before accelerating off and exiting at the next junction. Fifteen minutes later she’d be back, this time in just her underwear. This would carry on until she was completely starkers. The A5 run became a favourite and all the lads would try and bag it to get a bit of a thrill from the mystery prick tease.

Sometimes though, it isn’t quite as pleasant. Now and then you’ll get guys pulling up beside you flashing their cocks and masturbating. I normally wiggle my little finger at them and their tiny peckers because I can’t jump out and punch the twats. Following on from them are the coach loads of revellers that have been hours on a bus and need to stop. I’m sat in my cab with the light on reading, taking a 45 minute break whilst a group of people run into the verges to take a piss. That’s when one of them will spot me and shout, “Look at him, the PERV!”   These are the people dropping their keks and flashing me whilst I sit minding my own business on a law required stop.

Oh, and while I’m at it, there’s one thing I want to mention to all you car drivers out there on the motorway. Not only can I drive an HGV for hours on end but when I get out, I jump into my car to go home. This makes me a far more competent driver than you. Next time you pull in front of me and brake hard try and remember this: I’m working up 16 gears in 44 ton artic so you might want to consider my stopping distance and what that might do to you and your car if I can’t brake in time. The camera in my cab  can clock your number plate and if you pull off at the same services as me, you might get more than a stretch of your legs if I see you.

People wind me up and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt doing this job, it’s that the world is full of idiots. That belief was reaffirmed when the company asked me to be a shop steward and fight for the right for numptys’ to keep their jobs.
I’m an easy going bloke unless you get in my face and then I’m good at making you reconsider your position. I think that’s why the management asked me to take this extra role.

The few stories I’m going to tell you about soon will make you wonder who the idiot really is: The people I try to help or me for taking the job as union representative.