Who needs a Commercial Drivers License?

Jimmy was the official truck driver, but while the rest of the drivers would get to the venue and relax, He had to work straight through till the end. So, by the next day, when we had 600 miles to go to get to the next venue, driving the truck and staying awake was pretty difficult.

One day, Jimmy looks over at me as we are flying down the highway and says, "you wanna drive?"

I get all excited and reply "Sure!"

Since we are in a convoy with a few vehicles, stopping to change drivers was not really an option. 

Jimmy scoots forward all the way up to the steering wheel, I walk over the bench seat hunched over and slide in back of him, he bails out to the passenger seat, and I take over. 60 miles an hour with a 22,500 lb truck that is 2500 lbs overweight, and we are rocking down the highway with me at the wheel and a big smile on my face!

Jimmy watches me for a while, and then falls off to sleep. I woke Jimmy up as we approached a weigh station wondering if we should switch back, since I wasn't licensed to drive this truck, and Jimmy looks at me like I am a dumbass and says, "they aren't looking to stop guys like us.. we look like Harry Homeowner moving our personal belongs" I shrug my shoulders and say ok. After all, I really look up to Jimmy, and believe that if he thinks it is ok, then it probably is.

We pull into the weigh station, and the voice over the speaker says, to pull forward. We bounce on the scales, and the green light comes on, and away we go.

This continues to happen all over Florida, and I stopped waking Jimmy up after the first or second time. One day we are rolling through Knoxville TN, and Jimmy is awake, but I am driving, and there is a weigh station. I am an old pro at this by now, so, we go rocking into the station only to find out that the scales are closed, and this is not a weigh station, but a DOT truck inspection.

The State Trooper hops up on the cab, sticks his head inside and looks at both of us, and then at me, and asks me for my drivers license. I give it to him... Scared to death, we are both dead quiet, and Johnny law asks if I have a log book. I look at Jimmy. Jimmy says no. Johnny law asks if I have a medical card. Again I look at Jimmy. Jimmy says no. The officer takes off his 1972 Johnny law sunglasses and in a thick southern, (don't mess with me) accent, says "boy, do you know what you need to do to legally drive one of these trucks?" I am shaking like a leaf. I don't look at Jimmy this time. I say with my voice quivering, "No Sir" he then raises his voice, and says, "you are facing up to $5000.00 in fines, I suggest you get off the road until you do!"

I say yes sir, and he hands me back my license, and jumps off the cab and with a violent swing of his arm, he motions for me to get out of his sight!

I slowly take off, my hands shaking, and my adrenaline rush wearing off. I pull over to the side of the road, and We switch drivers, and that was about the last time I drove the truck on that tour. 

It all worked out, and probably, it was better that I was driving than it would have been if Jimmy was, because Jimmy hadn't been filling out his log book for weeks, so the officer might have ticketed him instead of just letting this 20 year old idiot go.