Tow Truck Blues
When I was in college back in the 90s, I used to dispatch tow truck drivers part-time to help pay tuition. It was an easy job. Someone broke down, they called Triple A, then Triple A called whichever tow company was nearest. If we were nearest, I would get on the radio and tell the driver where to go and what to expect.
Pretty easy, and most drivers were laid-back, friendly guys. Sometimes we would get new drivers, though, as the tow industry has a healthy turnover, especially in the wintertime. If the new guys ever got uppity or were jerks, we had this one trick we would pull on them. First, we would wait for the “Driver” to be helping a girl.
Then once they had gotten the girl’s car on the flatbed or strung up on the rig, we would go over the radio and ask if they were available. Dispatcher: “Hey driver, you have a customer with you en route back to the garage?” Driver: “Yeah dispatch we are heading back to the garage.” This is where we’d strike.
Dispatcher: “Okay, good. Oh, by the way, the doctor called. He said something about your private rash cream being in and you can pick it up whenever you have time.” Of course, all of the other drivers would be standing by on their radios and then they would all chime in laughing to bust the target driver’s chops. It was a great laugh, and the drivers never messed with the other drivers or dispatch again.
Story credit: Reddit / ronglangren