“The Friday That Took More Than Just Miles”

I took a recovery load on Friday. Nothing special at first glance — just one of those last-minute, high-stakes runs. The kind where the shipper’s voice is shaking because the original truck broke down.
This wasn’t just any shipper.
This was one of the top three logistics giants in the world. A name you see on containers across oceans.

They knew I was 150 miles out, but I was told I was their best shot. So I kept the truck on standby while they “re-onboarded” me — something that took nearly two hours. No complaints. I was ready to move. Ready to help.

I got the rate confirmation just after 6 PM. By 9 PM, I was there — just in time to watch the broken-down truck finally limp away.

Then… nothing.

For 3 hours, I waited. Sat in the cab watching time slip away. No updates. No load.
At midnight, someone from night dispatch finally called. Apologized. Said, “We’ll make this right on Monday.”
I believed them. Because that’s what we do out here — we take people at their word.

Monday came. And so did the insult.

They offered $250.
Ten hours of my life. My time. My fuel. My Friday.
Break-even on that run was around $500, but I was expected to just swallow the loss.

I tried to escalate.
At 4:55 PM, the rep finally called — and instead of accountability, I got condescension.

“Do you even know what a TONU is?” she asked.
I told her, “Yeah, I do. And I also know what it isn’t.
It isn’t driving 150 miles, sitting for hours, and waiting for your company to notice their mistake.”

She didn’t like that. Said it was 4:59. Her shift was over. “We can discuss tomorrow.”

But for me, the clock didn’t stop.

Because out here, time doesn’t refund itself.
And miles don’t come back.