I called Ray back a bit ago. Man, that was tough. I talked to Mara when she got home, and she was adamantly against going back out even for a couple of runs for Ray. I agree with her. Sure, it would have been better to have given Ray some warning, but given how he tried to manipulate us, I just don't trust Ray. And we have to get some things worked out before we can hit the road again. Even if the truck were to be ready tomorrow (which I seriously doubt), going out for a few days with Ray would mean that we'd get flipped back to regular fleet and be stuck out on the road for several weeks, possibly until May. We need to prepare for that.

Anyway, the talk with Ray didn't go well. He was understandably upset that we just dropped off of the run without much of a warning. Which is ironic, actually, because earlier when he started to bitch me out, his attitude actually improved when I told him we wanted off the run. Of course, Ray wanted us off of the run on his terms, not ours. How little regard Ray has for our situation can be summed up by the fact that he tried to get me to take our Tuesday load out by myself (because I used the tact that Mara was the one who outright refused, and I was stuck in the middle). I mean, come on. Mara and are not just a driving team. She's my fucking wife.

This part about me going out by myself is what really pissed me off, and cemented my opposition to doing anything else for Ray. I told him that the problem for me was what would happen to me after I delivered that load. In short, I would be on the road as a solo and Mara, my team partner (and wife), would be in North Carolina. Remember, we want to go back to regular fleet as a team. So there I would be in Chicago, at Ray's mercy, and if I were flipped back to regular fleet I'd have a hell of a time getting back to North Carolina to pick up Mara.

I didn't say all of this, exactly. I just asked Ray what would happen to me after I delivered that load. He told me that that wasn't the important part. The important part was getting the load delivered. Right. Sorry, bucky boy. Not to me.

It still amazes me, after all the times Ray has fucked us over, after popping off at my mother on the phone and hurting her feelings, after ranting at us every time we have a breakdown, and causing us headache after headache, Ray thinks of himself as the victim here, and even told me "I haven't done anything to you guys" and "this isn't right." Well. Maybe not, Ray. But you're the one with dozens of enemies; drivers who used to be on your fleet. I'm sorry, but we've done enough for you.