To My Dearest Roseanne- Chapter 17
He took out a portable stove, but after a loud sigh, he put it back into a small trunk. Robert wasn't in the mood for cooking, so he opted for buying dinner at a parking-based inn, though the prospect of spending money wasn't encouraging as well.
As soon as he placed an order, he found a free place in the corner of the room and waited for pork chop and mashed potatoes. Throughout the whole evening, there was this lingering thought in the back of his mind, which he didn't dare to acknowledge. However, he knew its content:
Maybe this job is starting to take a toll on me, Robert thought to himself.
Certainly, being a trucker was better than being a bus driver, but still, it was a demanding job with lots of responsibilities, and its greatest disadvantage was time: time away from home, from Liz and Roseanne. A full month on the road, just to get to a payday, get back home for two weeks, and then start the cycle again.
The neverending cycle of work.
While sipping Pepsi, he began to fantasise about different types of jobs he could have done. Robert the technician, Robert the mid developer, Robert the handyman. At that moment, any job sounded better in his head because, in each scenario, he could be at home with his family every evening.
It's always better there where we are not present.
Nevertheless, Robert finished vocational school and received the profession of a driver. If he has any regrets, it's too late to think about alternate possibilities. They may look good in our heads, but each job has its fair share of shortcomings. In the case of Robert's profession, the greatest shortcoming was time.
Suddenly, somebody threw a bottle towards the bar counter. It actually hit a random man, but the bottle didn't break. It bounced away from his skull like a gummy ball.
"What are you doing?! What are you doing?!" the man shouted. "If you do this again, I swear I'll smack you good. I'm a southpaw. My left fist is death!"
The bottle flew again. The man ducked and it smashed against the bartender.
"You mother!"
A brawl ensued in the centre of the dining arena. That's why Robert preferred to sit alone in the corner, away from others. People are just too unpredictable in their erratic behaviour. Everybody is a loose cannon when they find themselves in a large, anonymous group. Robert finally got his meal and ate it peacefully while the police were handcuffing the disturbers of peace.
"The shit got discharged, boy!" someone said at the sight of a police car driving away.
Robert grabbed his phone and tried calling Liz, but he wasn't getting any signal in the parking lot. Therefore, he came up to the counter and asked the owner if he could use the landline phone. The owner agreed, but only on the condition that Robert would pay 10 Po coins. Robert agreed, handing in the banknote. He realised the last time he paid for the landline was in the 1990s.
There was a signal, but nobody was picking up the phone at Liz's end. Robert stopped the call and dialled Roseanne's number instead. Her device, on the other hand, seemed completely turned off because the call disconnected itself after one signal.
This turn of events made Robert a little worried. Just in case, he left a voice message, telling Roseanne to reach out to him as soon as she could. He also tried sending out a Messenger post, but there was no internet reach either.
"Hey, do you know where I can normally make a call and use my phone apps?" Robert asked a random driver. He pointed him in the direction ten kilometres away.
Robert sensed he was just freaking out for no reason. This used to happen to him, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
Had I been a stay-at-home dad, I wouldn't have to worry about each missed call, Robert thought as he turned the ignition key. The truck left the only available place in the parking lot and made its way into the night.
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